Rub Me The Right Way
by hellquat
Summary: Trowa and his younger cousin are down on their luck. Quatre is a genie who will make all their wishes come true. But will Quatre remain after the wishes are gone? Read and find out.
1. The Dig

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: G

Chapter One

The Dig

_November 21, 1972_

The hot Arabian sun was set high in the sky, glaring relentlessly down on the sand and dunes. The heat was sweltering but that could not deter the diggers. Some fifty young men and women worked tirelessly with shovels and brushes, excavating sand and rubble from the Earth. Vigorous grunts and painful groans emitted from the exhausted workers. They had been digging in this unrelenting heat for months now. Half of them had already given up on the site or had to stop because of ill health. Just the other day a man hade to be escorted from the site. He had been diagnosed with Heatstroke and the rate of attrition continued to rise.

A tall middle-aged man with a mustache and a pair of glasses presided over the workers and the gigantic hole they were digging. He inspected their progress thoroughly. He walked amongst them in his white suite, his glasses reflecting the harsh midday sun. A young worker froze feeling the cool shadow of the tall man behind him. He stopped sifting sand and rubble to meet his gaze. He winced slightly as the man crouched down to his level. The young man watched cautiously as he took hold of the other end of the sifter.

"Found anything worth while yet?" The man asked while helping the boy sift sand.

The youth shook his cloth covered noggin and pointed to a box of broken pottery and bones. He then looked back at the tall man saying, "All good finds, signs of civilization, but no treasure yet Sir."

The tall man stood once again frowning and lifting his head toward the sun. He sighed in disappointment before turning once again toward the youth. "Those are good finds Ali. Take them with you at the end of the dig and sell them. Perhaps they will be worth enough money to support your family for a while."

He smiled. "You are serious, Sir?"

"Yes my dear boy. You need them more than I do, besides there is only one thing in this dessert that I am interested in. I have no use for them so you may have them."

"I thank you Sir", Ali said nodding once and smiling gratefully.

"M-hm", was all the man said in return before heading deeper into the site. He walked up behind another worker. This man was closer to his age and had a long, dark, wiry beard. He too wore a cloth hood on his head to protect him from the heat of the sun.

"How's your luck been? Found anything yet?" Asked the tall man with the mustache.

The bearded worker shook his head as Ali had. "I apologize Dr. Santiago. Our crew has turned up nothing as well."

"I see. Have you made any progress in unearthing this tunnel?" Asked Dr. Santiago.

"Yes Sir. We have uncovered three feet since yesterday," replied the worker.

The doctor nodded as a sign that he was pleased with the crew's progress. He was just about to continue his rounds when he heard someone shouting from inside the tunnel.

"Dr. Santiago!"

The doctor turned back to see another middle-aged man appear from within the tunnel. He was running frantically and panting audibly. "Is the doctor out here?" he asked the other diggers. They all looked toward the doctor identifying to the excited man where he was. The digger stood for a second, spotted the doctor, and then continued running toward him.

"Doctor! We've found something. It's a small chamber. I think you'd better come and see. This could be it. This could be the chamber where the all the treasures are!"

Dr. Santiago stared for a brief moment taking in the information and suddenly his heart skipped a beat as a result of his shock and excitement. When he had gotten over being momentarily stunned, he jolted forward to fallow the other man into the tunnel toward the supposed treasure chamber. He soon felt silly for getting his hopes up, as he had been let down before. For instance, a week ago one of the diggers came to him claiming to have found skeletons with gold jewelry but in fact it was nothing but bronze. The week before that, a digger claimed that he had found a chamber beneath where they were walking but it was only a continuation of the passage they were already digging. Still, the man got his hopes up because there was something about the way the digger was so excited when he delivered the news that sounded genuine and promising.

The two men walked briskly down the tunnel to the very end where five or so other men stood waiting anxiously for permission to continue digging. All the workers turned their attention to the doctor in reflection of his excitement. They waited, gritting their teeth and holding their breath as the doctor peeked cautiously into the hole between two stone bricks. He squinted holding his flashlight next to his eyes and using it to search the chamber for something that sparkled or shimmered gold. Just a small gleam. Anything.

At first all he saw was the back wall of the room, then the paintings that decorated it. The room almost seemed to be empty but then he caught a glimpse of something angular. It was a dark object to the side of the chamber and he could not turn his gaze that far because the bricks surrounding the hole in the wall were blocking his view.

"Hand me a pick", He ordered softly.

A worker handed him a pickaxe and then stood back a ways to give the doctor some swinging space. Blow after blow the bricks began to drop from the wall widening the small hole. The doctor plucked out bricks until there was a wide enough gap for him and the others to fit through. Once satisfied with his handy work he tossed to pickaxe aside and moved his fingers around to get the blood flowing to his knuckles again. He then stepped through the hole and into the chamber.

The other men waited outside in the tunnel unsure of whether or not they should follow. But they could not completely control their curiosity and had to have a peek inside the musty chamber. They watched the doctor move toward the back of the room with his flashlight searching for the angular object he had seen moments earlier. As he moved the flashlight, he saw the object come into contact with the beam once again. His eyes widened hopefully and he felt a sharp twinge, like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest through his ribcage. The object was clearly identified as a table. A very old table. Ancient in fact. It had a crude ornate look to it and on top was a small box. Also very ornate.

The box had no lock on it nor was it a mystery to open. It was almost as though someone wanted it to be found. It was a wonder that looters hadn't found it ages ago. The whole chamber was in perfect condition considering it was over a thousand years old. Not to mention, Doctor Santiago wasn't the only scientist looking for this very site. He would be an extremely lucky man if what he quested for was indeed in this dusty old room. There may even be other treasures in this room but he had no use for them. There was only one thing that would end his search.

The diggers watched observantly with dropped jaws as the doctor gently opened the small wooden box and lifted an object out. He looked it over with intense scrutiny. He turned slowly and chuckle softly yet triumphantly.

"We've done it!" He shouted to the other men as he held his finding up for them to see. Indeed he had found it. At last. After years of searching the vast wastelands of Arabia he had found it. The legendary magic lamp which belonged to a great Arabian prince. By this time the crowd gathered at the entrance to the chamber had doubled. At least two thirds of the entire crew was crammed into the narrow tunnel hoping to gain the smallest glimpse of the legendary treasure of Arab folklore. The doctor smiled to them and said, "My loyal workers, I could not have done this without your help and so to thank you all I am allowing you to search the rest of this chamber for more treasure. What you find is yours. This lamp is all I need. Do what you will with the rest of the artifacts. Trade them, sell them, use these finds to make yourselves happy. As for me, I must bid you all adieux. I wish all of you good luck and successful lives". And with that said, Dr. Santiago squeezed between them as he headed back toward the entrance of the tunnel. Workers cheered and reached out to touch him or give him congratulatory hand shakes and pats on the back as he passed by them. They were both happy for him and relieved that they no longer had to dig in the sweltering heat. It was a good thing the doctor had paid so handsomely ahead of time or they probably wouldn't have kept digging this long.

As the day came to a close, the worker gathered there findings together to take back home. The lovely treasures along with their generous pay would sustain their simple lives for a considerable amount of time. As for the doctor, he proceeded to the nearest airport to catch the earliest flight back to Spain. The trip took a full two days with all the stops along the way during which time the doctor didn't sleep a wink. He was far too exited to even close he eyes. By the end of the trip he was beat but he still could not close his eyes. Too afraid that the next time he opened his eyes it would turn out to be just a wonderful dream. Not to mention there might be a thief on the plane with him and he couldn't risk losing his precious treasure after years of searching and digging in hot Arabian desserts. No, he decided he would not sleep until his treasure was safe back at his home in Spain. The long flight coupled with the bumpy cab ride home seemed a blur and before he knew it he was standing in front of his office desk, his small carry-on bag placed before him. He stared sleepily at it wondering for the first time how exactly he had gotten home. It was as if he had made the whole trip while in a trance.

He couldn't remember boarding the plane, paying the cabby, or even being greeted by his housekeeper when he walked threw his front door. He almost felt like the lamp had cast a spell on him. It was all he could think about. He involuntarily released the straps holding his suitcase closed. He then lifted it open. In the center of all his clothing and toiletries from the trip was the ancient lamp which he had wrapped in a piece of newspaper to keep it from getting damaged. He unwrapped it carefully it and lifted it out of the suitcase.

His jade eyes surveyed it with curiosity and wonder. He began to recall the tale of the genie who granted wishes to his master. He was aching to try rubbing the lamp just to see what would happen. He soon felt ridiculous and foolish for even contemplating rubbing the thing. What was he, Six? Still he felt compelled to do so. Just one quick stroke, who would know? He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his housekeeper wasn't present. Content that she was not, he held the lamp by the handle with his left hand and set his right hand on the side of it.

He felt silly. It was only a myth, after all. The genie didn't really exist. For some reason though, he just had to or he was afraid he'd never get to sleep. He swallowed and then proceeded to rub the lamp quickly then he stopped. He had done it. He had rubbed it, now he could go to sleep. He was about to set the lamp down on the table when he felt it jolt. He was so startled, he almost dropped it. The lamp continued to shake and tremor violently as he tried to keep his grip on the handle.

"What the Devil!"

Finally a cloud of purplish smoke poured from the spout and formed a mysterious figure, sparks and lightning surging within it. The shape of a slender, young being began to take shape. Slowly, the clothes developed, then hair and facial features, limbs, hands and feet, and with one finally burst of lightning, the mysterious entity appeared in wholeness. A slight, youthful creature with soft, platinum gold hair and eyes like large, sapphire pools. The entity wore exquisite dressings; a black and gold turban and matching vest and pantaloons. On his feet he wore a pair of black, curled toed slippers, the kind people wore in the time of sultans and overly adorned palaces.

The entity smiled at the bedazzled doctor while levitating in the air, his legs crossed and his hands rested upon his thighs. Doctor Santiago was stupefied. He couldn't believe his own eyes. The boyish creature just kept smiling fondly.

"You're a… No this is impossible. I'm dreaming, I must be."

"Shall I pinch you, Master?"


	2. The Will

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: R for language

Chapter Two

The Will

_March, 15 2004_

The weather was fair, sunny but not too hot, slightly humid though, as the weather tended to get in the city of angels. L.A. was a city of many different faces. It had its pleasant areas and its slums like all cities. Home to Malibu, Holly Wood, Bel Air, several theme parks and museums, L.A. had it all and more. Who wouldn't want to reside in such an exciting and interesting location?

"Fuckin' hate this city! It's ridiculous! Can't fuckin' find anything!" a young male mumbled harshly. He saw a man in a business suit and approached him frantically. "Pardon me… Sir? Excuse me I need directions. I'm los-"

The man turned rapidly giving him a hard glare and pointing stiffly to his earpiece, revealing that he was too busy running up his wireless bill and making insipid conversation with his mommy to assist a stranger in need. The young man backed away apologizing briefly for interrupting the other man's phone call and then ducked behind his long pointed bangs.

"This is so hopeless," he stated and then sat down on a nearby bench where an old lady was feeding the pigeons. She was a plump old woman who wore a constant smile. She at least looked friendly, he thought, and decided to try his luck with her. He began by clearing his throat.

"Excuse me ma'am," he said softly. She turned to face him still smiling. "Uhm, I'm sorry to bother you but I think I'm lost." He pulled a map out of his pocket and unfolded it. "I'm trying to get to this address but I've been up and down this street and I can't seem to find any building with an address at all," he said pointing to a spot on the map.

The old lady leaned closer, squinting her eyes to take a look. The young man waited while she conducted her examination. He looked impatiently at his watch. He would never make it in time, he thought. Suddenly the round one spoke. "Of course you can't find any addresses. The numbers are written on the curbs in front of the buildings. These buildings are old and the government doesn't want to go posting numbers on 'em."

The man wasn't quite convinced by the old lady's explanation. So what if their old, they should still have numbers. Then he realized what she had said about the numbers on the curb and looked. Sure enough the curbs were lined with the addresses of their respective buildings. "You're lookin' for the St. Vincent De Paul Episcopal Church?"

The young man scratched his head. "Uh I guess so. My uncle passed away recently and I was told by my sister to come to this address for the memorial service. Oddly enough she never told me the name of the building, only the address. I wasn't expecting there to be this many memorials and funeral homes and churches on this one street," he explained. He stood up in front of the old woman and offered his hand in gratitude. She accepted the hand shake with a smile and said "You'll be alright?"

The man nodded saying, "Yes I think I can find it now. Thank you so much for your patience and assistance," he said smiling back at her. He heard her say "Sorry about your uncle," as he began to walk away. He turned back for a brief moment just to acknowledge that he had heard her then the turned away. Actually it was an unnecessary apology. He actually had never known his uncle. They had only met once when he was very young so he really didn't have the opportunity to grow attached. Still he wished they had known each other better. His uncle lived in Spain and was always traveling the world, visiting foreign countries and studying their cultures, which made it extremely difficult to get a hold of him for family reunions.

The man with the long bangs finally approached a building labeled St. Vincent De Paul Episcopal Church. He checked the curb looking for and address and saw that it was the right one. He entered quietly not wanting to disturb anyone if he was in fact late. Just inside he found his mother and older sister standing with a few distant relatives. His sister noticed him before there mother did and marched toward him.

"What the hell took you!" she whispered, but noisily. "This thing is going to start in five minutes and you stroll in like you're out window shopping!"

"I'm sorry Kathy, but for some reason you failed to mention the name of the church. There are like three churches on this street and none of them have an address number posted on them. I found out from an old lady feeding the birds that I was suppose to look at the curb to find the address number of this building. Forgive me for not being all knowing!"

"Katherine! Trowa! Stop it! I don't want to hear another word!" Their mother reproved firmly. "This is not the time to be arguing. This is your uncle's funeral. Leave your bickering at the door."

Trowa and Katherine both looked at one another in remorse then averted their eyes as their mother turned in the other direction. "Sorry Kathy," Trowa whispered feeling the sting of his mother's reprimand. "Me too," she replied softly.

The two proceeded after their mother into the worship area of the church. Trowa walked with his head down. He might not have known his uncle but he was his mother's older brother and they were very close. He felt very guilty about picking a fight with his own sister at such a dismal time. It made him feel very immature and foolish.

The three of them entered and sat down at one of the pews in the front row and waited for the service to begin. His uncle's coffin was placed on a table at the altar. It was open but he did not look inside it. He looked down at his nervous hands wrapped in back leather isotope gloves. He had his right hand clasped tightly around the fingers on his left, twisting. It was a nervous habit. His hands weren't cold but he always wore gloves except while bathing. It was an imperfection he had been dealing with since he was about thirteen. His mother tried everything to get him to uncover his hands. She would take his gloves in the middle of the night while he slept but in the morning he would refuse to go to school until she gave them back. She took him to a psychiatrist as a last resort and got some medication for obsessive compulsiveness but in the end it had little effect. Finally she gave up and let him wear the gloves anyway though she was still concerned.

The memorial service had begun but Trowa was barely paying attention. One of his other uncles was delivering a eulogy to his deceased brother. They too had been close. Trowa hardly knew this uncle either. He hardly knew any of these people. Suddenly he felt the overwhelming need to get out of there. He felt out of place, like he didn't belong in this room. He didn't know the man for whom they wept. He didn't know the other mourners nor did they know him. He couldn't cry because he felt no attachment and he couldn't pay attention to the eulogist. He felt very disoriented and his hand twisted harder with his growing discomfort. It was causing a squeaking sound and his mother set a lace covered hand over his which caused the noise to stop, finally.

Trowa looked at her, snapping out of his reverie and whispered, "Sorry." She smiled but it was a pained smile like she knew he couldn't help it. He couldn't sometimes. She dabbed her eyes of the tears there with a little black handkerchief. Her makeup was beginning to smear and she looked very old. Trowa looked away. He didn't want to think of his mother as being old, especially given the circumstances. True, death was a part of everyone's life but he hated to think that it was.

The memorial service seemed so brief when they had reached the end. This was the part that Trowa had been dreading the most; approaching the altar to pay respect to the departed. He swallowed hard as he drew near the coffin and looked inside. He looked briefly, not certain what to do. He did not recognize the dead man, he looked so frail. Surely this could not be the uncle he met when he was seven, this man was…Old. But then again, Trowa was twenty two and beginning the climb up that metaphoric hill. It was only natural that the generation that came before him start to fade away. But God, could the man in this coffin really be the same uncle from fifteen year ago when they met at a family outing? How boney and frail he had become. Not at all the way Trowa remembered him. He had looked so strong and full of vitality. He was a hansom man in his younger years; hansom and well kempt. Now he just looked sickly and pale.

Trowa looked only briefly at the man's shriveled, boney cheeked face then stepped down from the altar looking troubled. He had not said anything on behalf of his uncle nor did he genuflect or make a cross over his chest like some of the other mourners. He would have felt silly. How do you pay respect to someone who had so little impact on your life, but for that matter, why had he even come?

As he began to walk back to his seat, he stopped, suddenly taking all this to heart. He began walking again with a new destination in mind. His mother and his sister looked after his retreating form and became confused when he did not return to his seat. Instead, he followed a clear path toward the church exit. He heard his mother call out to him but he ignored her and kept walking. Halfway to the door, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, putting it to his mouth and pulling one out between his lips, deftly. A man standing at the door said informatively, "There is no smoking inside the church Sir." Trowa turned to him just as he reached to push the door handle and said, "No fucking way, genius. Thanks for stating the obvious." The man stepped back, a shocked look plastered on his face. He didn't say it very loud but his mother was close enough to hear her son's offensive remark and quite was taken a back. She watched Trowa step outside and the door closed behind him. She thought she should have returned to her seat but her motherly instincts told her she should comfort her son because there was something upsetting him. She found him outside leaning over the rail of the church porch smoking his cigarette.

"Trowa?" She asked softly. Trowa only looked at her briefly then turned back to look over the rail. There was a long pause and then Trowa spoke.

"You heard me?" He asked her knowing that she had been near when he had his little outburst inside the church.

"Yes I heard you and I'm quite shocked but you are an adult and I'm not going to lecture you. I think you should apologize to that man though."

"Sorry, I'm not going back in there," He almost mumbled.

"Why is that? Don't you want to have some wine afterwards?"

"And what for? I have to drive back to my apartment, remember? That's a DUI waiting to happen."

"You can stay and sober up for an hour or so," His mother suggested.

Trowa exhaled a steam of smoke before answering, "No, I need to be home when Andy gets out of school. I can't stay, sorry."

"Oh right, almost forgot Andy. You could have brought him.

"Yeah, right. What's the point in that? Poor kid would be bored out of his mind. It's not like he knows anyone from your side of the family. There weren't any other kids for him to play with either." He paused and then said, "Actually I didn't know hardly anyone in there either that's why I left. I didn't even know Uncle Antonio. I only met him once when I was little, I couldn't cry for him, I didn't feel bad, I couldn't mourn his death, that's why I left. I couldn't stand not feeling the attachment everyone else was feeling, I felt like I shouldn't have been in there pretending to be sad. It felt wrong, and I'm sure if Uncle Antonio had any say in this, he wouldn't have sent me an invite 'cause we never knew each other."

"That's what all this is about?" Inquired his mother. "Trowa it's okay if you want to leave. I understand, but I would like it if you would stay just a few more minutes. They're going to read your uncle's will and he told me before he died that he wanted to leave something to each member of our family."

Trowa flicked ashes off his cigarette and then took one last, long drag before putting it out on the railing. "Okay but only if you think he saw me as important enough to leave even his prune juice to."

His mother grinned though she tried not to. The joke was insulting but somehow she couldn't be upset. She just elbowed him softly to show her mild protest. The will was read to all the family members in the worship area. The coffin had been removed from the room before hand, which gave Trowa some relief. He was never the strong-stomached type, he couldn't even watch the Sixth Sense all the way through because the one scene with the dead boy that had the huge hole in his head from a gun shot literally made him puke. Andy had called him a sissy for that.

Again Trowa was barely paying attention. He only heard about every other word that was mentioned by the man at the pulpit.

"To my dear sister, Harmony, I bequeath…… I leave my record player to…… My dear Harriett, I leave my entire collection of…… To my nephew, Trowa…"

Trowa sat up a bit surprised. He wasn't expecting his name to be called, after all he didn't think his uncle remembered him. It was probably some crumby thing like his pocket knife or something, he thought.

"I leave the oil lamp that my crew unearthed in 72, in Saudi Arabia," The man finished.

Trowa slumped in his seat. Somehow he knew he'd get stuck with some piece of junk that his uncle would never have given one of his closer relatives. It was because he didn't think he was important enough, Trowa thought to himself.

Finally the man finished off the list and announced that the smaller items were packed in the rubber maid tub on a fold-out table at the altar. Trowa got in line with a few other relatives to go and claim his measly bequest. As he approached and looked down into the plastic container, he almost groaned at the sight of a tarnished and dented, old oil lamp placed amongst a trove of cleaner, nicer trinkets. He hooked his finger around the handle and lifted it out of the container with very little interest. He didn't even look at it before wrapping it up in a handkerchief and sticking it into his coat pocket.

He walked back to his mother and sister, who had both inherited more utilitarian items, and gave them each a goodbye kiss before heading out. It was his way of telling them "I came and put up with this crap but now I'm leaving, see ya."

He dragged his feet slightly as he walked back to his car which he parked a block away. He unlocked it and got in. He exhaled noisily, slouching in the driver's seat.

"Fuck," he groaned, aggravated. He took the lamp out of his coat pocket and only now decided to look it over. He turned his nose up at it. It was even more thrashed than he thought. He chuckled mockingly and tossed it onto the passenger seat.

"Thank you Uncle Antonio," He said with sarcasm, "For absolutely nothing."

He put the key into the ignition and started up the engine. It gave a loud roar and then subsided to a gentile rumble. He put it in gear and waited for an opening in the traffic. Then he took off, heading for his poor excuse for an apartment on the other side of town.


	3. The Break In

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: R for language

Chapter Three

The Break In 

It was about four o' clock when Trowa arrived back at home from the memorial service. He parked his car and locked it. He knew he had left the lamp on the passenger seat, still wrapped in his handkerchief, and that's where he intended to leave it. At least for the day since he had no desire display it in his already crumbling, sham of a home.

As he walked, numbly, he noticed something strange. He saw one of the doors to an apartment hanging ajar. At first he thought nothing of it, but as he drew closer, he started to feel the twinge of fear in realizing it was the door to his apartment.

His heart nearly stopped as he began running to get to his open front door. Andy was the first thing to enter his mind. "Oh God," He managed to pant.

He raced threw the entrance and stopped in the middle of the living room, looking around, nervously. His jaw dropped at the site. His insignificantly accommodated living room had been completely torn apart. There were several items missing; the TV, the stereo, the lamp, the CDs, even the Star Wars poster that was hanging on the wall above the couch. He was beginning to panic and he sprinted down the hall in a terrified frenzy.

"Andy!" He shouted as he raced toward the boy's bedroom door. He had to take hold of the door fame to stop himself or else momentum would have sped him right past.

"Andy! Where are you? Andy?" Trowa kept calling as he searched the boy's room. He got down on the floor to look under the bed. Nothing. He ran to the closet and threw the door open. He searched there. Still nothing. His heart was pounding; he had never felt so scared. "Andy!" He cried out at the top of his lungs, "Answer me!" He got no response.

He breathed heavily, sweat trailing from his temples. He fell to his knees in the middle of the room bracing himself with his hands on the carpet. "Oh no. They took Andy. Shit! What should I do!"

Call the police, duh, his mind told him. He got up and dashed out into the hall toward the kitchen but he came screeching to a halt. He stood for a second, once more in shock as he realized they had taken the phone too.

"No! Fuck!" He cursed and kicked a cabinet door that was standing open. It flung to the side, hitting the cabinet next to it and then slammed shut loudly.

"God dammit!" He screamed. He grabbed a coffee cup and hurled it across the room. It hit a wall in the living room and left a deep indentation. It stayed stuck there, halfway imbedded in the thin plaster.

Trowa stood hunched over the counter breathing erratically and gritting his teeth tightly together. He could feel tears threatening his week, red eyes. How could this have happened? He had never been robbed before. This just wasn't his day.

"Of all people, Mona just had to make _me_ his godfather didn't she? I can't believe I let this happen," Trowa mumbled harshly.

Mona was Trowa's cousin on his dad's side. His father's family had been notably smaller than his mother's and had all passed on with the exception of Andy, Katherine, and himself. Mona died only months ago of lung cancer; she had been a very heavy smoker, even while pregnant with Andy. Because of his mother's deadly habit, Andy now suffered allergies to just about everything. The poor kid was miserable for about nine months out of the year not to mention his predisposition to catching pneumonia or bronchitis nearly every winter. Luckily, He wasn't born with Asthma but he did need inhalers for whenever he contracted some upper respiratory infection which happened often due to his weak immune system. It was hard enough taking care of himself let alone a twelve year old with so many health issues. At the end of each week he barely had the money to buy groceries and he was constantly switching jobs because it was hard to find anything that paid a high enough salary. It was a pain in the ass to have to take care of a kid and it wasn't a task that Trowa had wanted to instigate either. He soon grew attached, however. He enjoyed the company of his second cousin immensely because after all it did get lonely in the pathetic, scummy hole-in-the-wall apartment.

Trowa lowered his head pitifully. What now?

So lost in his own misery, he almost didn't notice the knocking at his open front door. His head snapped back up to look for the cause of the noise and saw a slight figure standing on the threshold. It was his neighbor Heero, silent and still as always.

"Looking for Andy?" Heero asked in his low, monotonous voice, "He came over to Duo's and my place not too long ago. Said the house was being robbed, good thing he got out before they saw him. Anyway, that's where he is so you don't have to freak out, 'kay."

"He went next door? Oh thank God. I thought they had taken him," Trowa let out a relieved sigh.

"Nope. C'mon over. Duo's calling the police right now. They should be here soon. I just came over to check things out 'cause I thought I heard them leave but then there was a loud…" Heero trailed off as he saw the coffee cup lodged in the living room wall. He looked back at Trowa oddly. Trowa scratched the back of his head and blushed guiltily. "You're weird," Heero stated flatly. He then began to walk away saying, "Why don't you come on out of there and over to our place for a while."

"Andy's okay right?" He asked as he followed the other man.

"Yes, he's fine. He said he got out before they saw him," Heero assured as he unlocked the front door to his apartment. They both stepped inside taking off their coats and hanging them up on the coat tree next to the door. Andy and Duo were in the kitchen; Duo was on the phone talking with the police and Andy was sitting at their kitchen table having a Coke. Duo only acknowledged Trowa with a quick smile and then said into the phone, "Okay so you'll send somebody?" He paused, "Great, Thank you. Uh-huh. Okay bye." He waited until he heard a click on the other end, then he hung up the phone.

Trowa went to sit next to Andy. He ruffled his unruly bleached-blonde hair affectionately. "You had me goin' for a second there. I thought they had kidnapped you." Trowa told him.

"Sorry Cuz. Didn't mean ta freak you out like that," replied Andy.

"Oh well, as long as you're safe. That's all that matters; besides you did the right thing."

Heero walked up to Duo and then looked at there two guests, "You guys are welcome to stay here tonight if want." He said it with very little enthusiasm but it wasn't because he didn't want Trowa and Andy to stay, that was just the way he talked. He said everything that way, like nothing interested him at all.

"Well, we wouldn't want to impose," Trowa said trying to remember his manners, though he really didn't want to spend this particular night in his own ransacked apartment. He would be too afraid the robbers would come back. Though he knew there was nothing left now worth stealing, he still didn't like the idea.

"Oh, it's no trouble," Duo assured. "We'll just set up the guest room and you two can sleep in there tonight. I wouldn't feel comfortable letting you go home tonight knowing what happened to your apartment."

"Hm," Heero said tersely. That was his response to just about everything. For him it was a symbol of boredom, a compliment, the answer to a question, a sign that he was thinking, a response to his frustrations, a stained grunt, a clue that he might be annoyed, angry, delighted, ill, hungry, or sad. Sometime it didn't mean anything at all. Sometime he just mumbled "Hm," for no reason at all. This time though, it clearly meant that he was reinforcing Duo's kind offer and voicing his approval.

"Yeah, c'mon Trowa it'll be like a slumber party. Tomorrow's Saturday, we c'n stay up 'n watch X rated movies 'n crap like that," Andy agreed excitedly.

"Andy, I think you've forgotten you're only twelve. You can't watch pornos." Trowa reminded sternly, trying his best to behave like a responsible guardian.

"Trowa, I know where babies come from," The boy informed him.

The three adult males looked at one another then chuckled in amusement at Andy's inaccuracy.

"Andy, there is a distinct difference between having sex with someone you love in hopes of having kids, and having sex with some attractive stranger for simple pleasure and video taping it. One has nothing to do with the other." Trowa explained astutely.

"Especially not in any porno we own," Duo whispered to Heero who smiled in amusement.

"Damn, you are such a square Cuz," Andy pouted.

"Hey when yer seventeen I'll let you watch whatever you want but I think you need to gain a little more understanding for what's going on in those movies. Until then I'm afraid you're stuck with PG-13 li'l man, and another thing stop saying 'Damn'. You're way too young to be talkin' like that."

"Aw… You're such a good mommy Trowa," Duo teased.

"Oh shut it. Would you let him do this stuff?" Trowa asked defensively.

Heero actually had a small smirk on his face, he found the debate most amusing. Suddenly there was a knock on the front door that got all their attention. "Must be the police," Heero stated blankly and went to answer the door. When the door opened there was a tall, beefy, policeman standing on the welcome mat. He took off his trademark-policeman's dark sunglasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. He kept a constant scowl plastered on his chiseled features; it was like looking the policeman stereotype smack in the face. Every aspect of this guy screamed "PIG". Temperamental, full of himself, and high on the power of authority, all that was missing was the spare tire caused by a cop's steady consumption of too many glazed doughnuts.

"Good afternoon, I am Officer Weily and I am here because we got a call about a break in," Stated the policeman gruffly.

Trowa stepped forward, "Uh, yes that would be my apartment next door."

"Are you Mr. Maxwell?" Asked Officer Weily.

"Uh, no Officer, I am. I called 911. His name is Trowa Barton; he just got home about five minutes ago. He wasn't here when the break in occurred," Duo informed.

"So you're his next door neighbor and you called the police," The man stated and scribbled down a note on his clipboard. "Okay, may I come in?"

Heero stepped aside allowing the brawny man to enter. He came into the living room and sat down on the arm of the sofa. Duo glared but the policeman didn't notice.

"Did any of you see the suspect?" He asked.

"I did Sir," Andy replied sheepishly.

"Alright Son, describe what happened in as much detail as possible."

"Um… Well it was about fifteen minutes after the school bus dropped me off at home when it happened. There were three of them I think and they were trying to get in through Trowa's bedroom window from the fire escape. I heard a noise so I went to see what it was and that's when I saw them busting the glass with a crowbar."

"Did you get a good look at any of them?" Asked Officer Weily.

"Well no. After I saw them I bolted. I ran straight through the front door and over here."

"Remember _any_ details?"

"Um… The one that broke the window was a black man I think, and he was wearing sunglasses. He was wearing a T-shirt and a dew rag. The other two I can't recall. I just remember there were two other people with him."

"The man with the crowbar, then, did he have any facial hair, was he slim or built, short, tall."

"He was medium height, sort of buff but not like Arnold Schwarzenegger or nothin'. And I think he had a goatee."

The policeman jotted down the information and then asked, "Did the suspects see you?"

"No I don't think they did because they didn't leave after I ran over here. We could here them trashing the apartment still so Duo called 911. Then we heard them leave through the front door. Trowa got home about two minutes later."

The Officer jotted down some more notes and asked a few more questions like, "Did any of the suspects have tattoos?", "How old would you say these individuals were?", and "Did you see if they had a get-away vehicle?"

Andy replied with, "Yes they had gang style tattoos but I wasn't able to read any of them because I ran away", "I'd say they were mostly mid twenties – early thirties", and "No but we did hear tires screeching right after they had left."

Finally the policeman said "Okay let's just go and have a look at your apartment, shall we?" He lifted his meaty ass off the arm of the sofa and began to walk towards the front door.

Duo glared at him once more for using the furniture inappropriately. "Acts like it was a fuckin' barstool," He grumbled. He swept it off almost superstitiously with the palm of his hand, as if wiping away some dreaded disease. After that he joined the others as they headed next door.

The officer entered and looked the place over. It was trashed. There were papers scattered all over the carpet, the cushions of the couch were on the floor, the armchair was on its side, and every thing of value had vanished. The same was true for the rest of the apartment; things were knocked over, things were missing. Trowa sighed with misery as they approached his bedroom. The whole room looked as though a bomb went off in it. His posters were all gone, his trophies also, his closet had been torn apart and clothes were missing, same with his dresser, his bed sheets and pillows were all over the floor, his nightstand was knocked over and there was glass on everything from the window which was completely obliterated.

Trowa hung his head and his face disappeared behind his long stiff bangs. This day just couldn't get any worse. He would never be able to pay off the damage done to his home, not when he had rent to pay, and himself and a young boy to look out for. He could barely afford living on his one. Every last cent went to raising Andy and keeping this apartment. How was he going to live through this? He had no insurance to cover this.

Once Officer Weily was finished he stood before them at the front door and explained to them what he suspected had happened. Trowa was barely listening but he heard him say, "Possibly the same suspects who broke into several other apartments and condos in this area…" After that Trowa's mind went blank. It was just way too much for him to conceive at the moment. He went through the rest of the night almost completely numb. Every happening was a blur and the next voice he actually responded to was Andy's saying, "Trowa? We're gonna be okay, right?"

Trowa looked over. Andy was lying on his back and Trowa was sitting with his back against the pillow of Heero and Duo's guest room bed. How the Hell did he get here? He wondered. The digital clock behind Andy's head read eleven o'clock. Where did the time go?

"Right?" Andy repeated worriedly.

Trowa hesitated momentarily before nodding briefly. He smiled to reassure the boy. He looked away saying, "Don't worry kiddo, I'll figure something out."

Andy turned over to face the other way. "You mean we're screwed?"

"I said I'd figure something out, don't sweat it," Trowa said firmly, "And don't say screw, we talked about that remember?"

"You say screw."

"I'm an adult, I'm aloud to swear."

"That's not a swear word."

"The way you just said it, it is."

"How come it's okay for grown-ups to cuss but not kids? That's not fair."

Trowa was silent for a moment then he sighed in defeat, "Okay, you're right it's not fair. I'll try not to use bad words anymore. I'll try, okay?"

"'Kay," agreed Andy.

Trowa reached over and patted the boy on the chest. He smiled warmly. "Goodnight Andy, sweet dreams."

"Night Cuz," the boy replied.

Trowa leaned back against the pillow looked at the dark ceiling. He frowned. What was he going to do? He'd have to pay for all the damage done to his home and he was broke. He definitely didn't see it happening any time soon. Perhaps he could apply for a loan but would he ever be able to pay _it_ back? He could borrow the money from his mom or his sister but he still owed them money from when he got a speeding ticket last month and when he was between jobs the month before. He literally didn't have a cent to his name. His paychecks disappeared almost as soon as he cashed them and there was nothing left over at the end the week.

It was so humiliating, especially when he had to take Andy to eat at soup kitchens. Some times were better than others but even then Trowa had to miss breakfast just to make sure that Andy had enough to eat. Sometimes he'd skip lunch as well, depending on whether there was enough food in the fridge or not. He would lie to Andy saying he had already eaten or he wasn't hungry. However, his malnourishment had started to become apparent when he began looking pale. He lied again, telling people he was just feeling a little under the weather. He really was becoming sick though and the stress was magnifying everything. At times he would throw up just after eating. Not like a bulimic would. His vomiting was uncontrolled and unintentional. He couldn't help it. It made him very scared. He knew he wasn't healthy but he had no money to see a doctor. Everything seemed hopeless.

He tried to go to sleep, but his efforts proved futile. He was beginning to get a sick feeling in his stomach. Things were not looking good. At this rate he would be out on the street in a month or so, and Andy… His stomach curtailed at the thought of having to give him up to a group home. His mouth suddenly began to salivate. Not again, he thought. He tried swallowing the fluid down but it kept rising back up. In this case, salivating was not a sign of hunger but a flashing emergency light. He tried to calm down, forget about his misery and go to sleep but the more he tried the more his stomach churned and the more he salivated. He felt his skin become clammy and he couldn't fight back his nausea any longer.

He abruptly sat up pushing the blankets aside and staggered out into the hallway. He heard Andy call to him but he didn't process the phrase. He felt the threat of hot bile burning in his esophagus and he immediately cupped his hand over his mouth. Finally, he made it to the bathroom and entered without closing the door. At once he fell to his knees in front of the toilet, one gloved hand gripped the tank and the other held his long bangs out of his face and he heaved. He gagged a few times, saliva dripping from his gaping mouth and then clear liquid gushed out into the bowl. He retched until his lips turned blue. And then he spit to clear his mouth of the sour taste. He grabbed some toilet paper and wiped off his mouth. He coughed and tossed the toilet paper into the bowl and flushed it all down.

Finally he leaned back against the tub, his breath labored. His body was racked with chills though he hadn't been cold a minute ago. He looked up with his teary eyes and saw a slight figure standing before him.

"We're screwed aren't we?" said Andy.

Trowa didn't answer, though his actions were confirmation enough. He sniffed back a few more tears. He didn't want to cry in front of Andy. "What did I tell just tell you?" He asked shakily.

Andy came closer and sat down next to Trowa.

They were both quiet for a while then Trowa said, "I don't know what I'm gonna do. I'm so upset about today. I don't know where I'm gonna get the money to fix the apartment." He began to get choked up. "Andy I want you to promise me that whatever happens…"He swallowed hard, "You won't give up."

Andy looked at his cousin in disbelief. He felt his own face become clammy as the painful suggestion of Trowa's words became apparent to him. He became scared. Trowa looked at him. He had tears in his eyes and Andy knew they were both in a lot of trouble. But he didn't want to disappoint Trowa so he nodded.

Trowa smiled a sad and devastating smile and hugged the boy. Andy heard him sniff and gulp back his tears. Trowa's sudden outburst of complete misery frightened him and he was utterly confused over the whole situation. He had never seen an adult cry this much so he speculated that things were looking bleak for them.

He rested his head on Trowa's shoulder. He had accepted the circumstances and was not at all upset. He knew Trowa was doing his best to raise him and he was a perfect role model; kind, nurturing, responsible, and understanding but also disciplinary and firm. He just had trouble finding a job that would support both of them but he was doing his best.

Eventually they returned to the guest room but neither one of them could deny that they were utterly and hopelessly screwed.


	4. Master

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: R for language

Chapter Four

Master

The next day was hard. Trowa thanked Duo and Heero for their hospitality before he and Andy went back to their own apartment. Trowa told Andy to wait outside while he made sure the house was empty. A search was probably unnecessary but better safe then sorry. The house was fine except for the missing belongings and over turned furniture. When Trowa gave the okay Andy stepped into the house. They stood in the living room, both looking distraught. Trowa sighed then reached down and picked up a couch cushion. He slowly began putting the couch back together. Andy helped him right the furniture and then said "Trowa, maybe I could get a job," knowing exactly what plagued his cousin.

"I appreciate your willingness to help but you're not old enough yet," Trowa replied softly.

"How old do I have to be?"

"Fifteen," Trowa said.

Andy lowered his head. That wouldn't do them any good, he thought, they needed money now. The boy walked down the hall and into his bedroom. He kept a small lockbox with some money in it from the weekly allowances his mother use to give him. It had begun to dwindle but he started saving it once he became aware of his cousin's financial situation. It wouldn't even buy them groceries for the week but he didn't feel right spending it knowing that Trowa was broke. None the less, he wanted to help so he decided he would give it up to Trowa. Unfortunately, he found the box lying open on the ground. It was empty.

Andy let his shoulders drop as he stared discouraged at the empty box. Now he felt terrible. Not only was he a burden to his poor cousin who had no intention of raising a kid, but he had no way to make it up. His eyes welled up slightly and he tried to not to cry. He always felt upset when he thought about the strain he was putting on Trowa. He would never admit that his presence was a menace because he was too kind but it was becoming very obvious, at least to Andy, that things were much better before his arrival. Andy didn't need to here it from his cousin. He knew his presence, despite their amity, was an unwanted nuisance.

He choked as tears streamed down his cheeks. He sat down on the floor in front of his empty lockbox and buried his face in his arms. He didn't want to be a problem. He cared a lot for Trowa; he never wanted to be a burden. He wanted to help, but he could do very little since he had no money and no job. He felt so useless. He sobbed quietly.

Trowa suddenly appeared in the doorway and saw the boy crying on the floor. He was perplexed at first but then saw the lock box sitting in front of him. He frowned sadly and approached the boy slowly.

"Andy? Are you okay?" That was a stupid question.

Andy looked over apologetically. "I'm sorry Trowa they took my money. I wanted to give it to you but it's all gone."

"Give it to me?"

"I know you need money and I didn't have much but I feel like it's all my fault that you're in this situation so I wanted to give you my money. I didn't need it."

"Why would you think that this is your fault?"

"It's because I'm here that you're broke. I now you won't tell me that it's my fault but it is. I'm just another mouth to feed and you wouldn't have money problems if I had never showed up," Andy sobbed.

Trowa sighed. He sat down on the floor in front of Andy. He smiled warmly. "Andy, there's no reason for you to feel upset. Sure money's a little tight right now but we'll get through it."

"Money wouldn't be tight if I weren't here," Andy mumbled.

"Yes it would. C'mon do you really think I was swimming in dough before you got here?"

"No, but you could afford to take care of yourself."

"Alright I'll admit that it cost more money with you here but it really isn't a whole lot more. I was barely getting enough to begin with. Besides…" Trowa set his hands on the boy's shoulders and leaned forward slightly. "I really like having you here to keep me company because it's really lonely when you live on your own."

"You're just fibbing to make me to stop crying."

"That's not true," Trowa argued.

Andy sniffled.

"Andy," He paused. "You've become like a son to me. I care so much about you and even though we have a bit of a money problem at the moment, I don't want you to think that's your fault 'cause it isn't. You didn't choose to live here; your mother chose to put you in my care and no matter what happens I'm glad she did. When I found out the house got broken into yesterday I didn't care what happened to my stuff, all I cared about was making sure you were safe. I was so afraid because I thought you had been kidnapped and…" He paused again, "I would never be able to forgive myself if that had happened."

"But you were crying last night and you threw up again."

Trowa looked down. "I was just really worried about…" Trowa stopped and reconsidered what he was about to say. To tell the boy that they would almost certainly be homeless in a matter of weeks would only serve to intensify his guilt. He reconsidered and started over. "I was just very stressed out about everything that happened yesterday."

"Can't you see a doctor? You always throw up and you never eat. It scares me, and those gloves you always wear. Is something wrong with your hands? I think you might have issues," Andy remarked trying to sound mature and serious.

Trowa chuckled, "I wish I could see a doctor but there's no free clinic for psychological ailments."

"Why not? There's free abortion clinics and AIDS clinics," He pointed out.

Trowa shrugged. "Don't know kiddo. I guess those things are just more significant than one's sanity."

Andy frowned. Trowa took note of it and immediately changed the subject. "Well I bet you're hungry. Do you want a grilled cheese sandwich?"

Andy was slow to respond, "Sure, but only if you have one too."

Trowa smiled. "Okay," he agreed. Then he got up and left the room to go make their lunch.

Andy followed shortly after. He entered the living room, taking in the mess. He continued to set the furniture back in place and when he was finished he looked around. Besides the missing items the area was beginning to look decent again. Andy smiled, slightly proud of himself and then he heard his cousin's voice call him to the table for lunch. He exited the room and met Trowa in the dinning room/kitchen and took a seat at the table. Trowa handed him a sandwich on a plate and sat down across from him with his own.

"So how was the funeral yesterday?" Andy asked since that Trowa had not even mentioned it yet.

"The funeral? Oh, it was okay I guess. It was weird. I didn't know anybody, my sister Kathy yelled at me for being late (which was her fault actually), I felt like I shouldn't have gone and Oh, I cussed out some guy and my mom heard me."

"Why'd you do that?" Inquired the boy.

"Well, I was going outside to smoke and this dork was getting in my face." He took a bite of his sandwich. "He's all like, 'Der uh there's no smokin' inside the church, d-doi-d-doi'," Trowa reiterated slapping his chest like retard and making the dumbest voice he could manage.

Andy giggled. "What did you say to him?"

"I basically I said 'Duh', I'm not gonna repeat my statement because I'm trying to teach you that swearing is bad."

"Oh… Yer no fun."

"Oh wah. Cry me a river."

Andy switched subjects. "Did you inherit any money?"

Trowa shook his head regretfully. "No. All I inherited was a rusty old oil lamp my uncle dug up in the Middle East in the seventies. Probably worthless."

"Well we could try and see if it's worth any money. We can clean it up then take it to the pawnshop."

Trowa frowned. "I'll probably have to sooner or later," He mumbled.

Andy finished his sandwich quietly. Trowa was already done so he rinsed off his plate and told Andy he needed to get something from his car. Trowa walked sluggishly. Normally he wouldn't have dreamed of pawning his inheritance but he was desperate for money. It served not purpose in this day and age anyway. What would he do with an oil lamp?

He reached into his car and grabbed it off the passenger seat. He made another face at the ugly trinket. It seemed to get uglier and uglier every time he saw it. God was it beat up and tarnished. Trowa hooked his finger around the handle and picked it up then shut the car door. Once back in the apartment he set the grungy hunk of brass on the kitchen table. Andy, who was finishing up his lunch, eyed it with mild disapproval.

"This is it?" He asked poking at it with his index finger cautiously.

Trowa nodded to show his sincerity.

"I don't think we'll get much for this thing. Maybe some of this stuff can be cleaned off," Andy suggested hopefully.

Trowa picked it up close to his eyes to inspect the damage thoroughly. He smiled. "It's worth a shot I guess."

Andy followed Trowa into the kitchen. All the cleaning chemicals and things were kept under the kitchen sink. Trowa opened the cabinet and began sorting through spray cleaners bleach and shoe polish until he found a bottle that read "Brass Polish". He took it out along with a couple of dust rags and went back to the table. Andy was right behind him. They both sat down in front of the lamp. Trowa gave Andy a rag and poured some polish on it. He put some on his rag and then told the boy, "Okay I'll do the top, you do the bottom".

Andy nodded.

They flipped the lamp on its side and began to rub the polish on the brass surface. They kept rubbing then suddenly they both felt it budge. Andy stopped.

"Andy, hold it still. You're making it shake," Trowa told the boy.

"I didn't do it cuz," Andy defended.

Before Trowa could say another word the lamp shook again. They both let go of it. The thing continued to tremble. Both Trowa and Andy pushed their chairs back and watched as the lamp vibrated and began to move across the table top. The spout began to spew purple smoke.

"Oh my God!" Trowa shouted grabbing Andy and racing down the hall. He was sure it was going to explode at any second and launch shrapnel in all directions.

As soon as the two had taken shelter in the hallway, they heard the lamp fall to the floor with a clink. It continued to tremor but there was no explosion. Cautiously, Trowa peeked around the corner and couldn't believe what he saw.

In front of the kitchen table, veiled in purple mist was a sort of humanoid figure. It shimmered, illuminating the whole room and then the smoke cleared and there stood or levitated rather, the quintessence of splendor. Trowa blinked a few times, questioning his eyes for they could not possibly be seeing what they were seeing. Andy, whose hand Trowa still had a firm grip on, leaned over his cousin to view the abnormal phenomenon with curiosity. They both stared for a long time at the apparition in silence. Finally Andy said, "Trowa, that's a genie."

Trowa looked at Andy astounded. "That's impossible. They don't exist."

"Apparently they do," Andy argued.

They watched as the entity looked about the room still levitating. He put his hands on his hips and quirked a fair eyebrow. "Hello?" he asked melodiously.

"It's a genie, it really is," Andy whispered trying to convince Trowa.

Trowa would have argued against him but under the circumstances, he could see no other explanation. He continued to stare, hoping to find a more plausibly possibility but found none. This entity was an exceptional beauty however; glossy, platinum tresses, smooth, fair skin, large, aquamarine eyes, and soft pink lips. His clothes were neat and pressed. He wore a black vest and a long sleeved button-down shirt with matching black slacks. His clothes were what made the genie theory questionable. Wouldn't a genie wear traditional Arabian garb? Trowa arose from his ducking position and stepped gingerly forth. The youthful figure took notice and looked toward him. Trowa stopped a little nervous. The mysterious creature smiled. "I knew someone had to be there," he said cheerfully.

"How did you get in here?" Trowa asked bewildered and slightly agitated.

"What do you mean by that? I came out of there," he replied, pointing to the oil lamp.

Trowa shook his head. "C'mon don't toy with me. You can't fit in there, just tell me how you got in my apartment." He was becoming irritated.

The mysterious one went silent. He wasn't smiling anymore. He looked confused.

"Trowa he's telling the truth," Andy defended, "We both saw him come out of the lamp. He's a genie."

"Andy, genies aren't real. That's just an Arab fairytale. It would have to be made up 'cause it's impossibly for anyone to hit in an oil lamp. And who would rub an oil lamp anyway?"

"We did," Andy argued.

"We…" Trowa began and then rethought. "Look, this is impossible. This is just a con." He turned to the strange creature, "And you are just a con artist".

The entity looked almost hurt. "C-con artist? Me? What proof do you have of that?"

"What proof do I have? You've got a lot of nerve asking me that."

"Forgive me Master. That was out of line," said the mysterious one, lowering his head.

" Tch! 'Master', that's cute kid. But I'm still not convinced so why don't you just leave now," Trowa said waving his hand dismissingly.

Andy was silent. He watch the entity whose head sunk lower.

"B-but I..." He stuttered.

Trowa grit his teeth. "I said get out of my house!" He almost shouted.

The mysterious one shivered fearfully. He was next to tears.

"I can't," he whimpered. "I can't leave yet."

"God dammit! Don't fuck with me you little fake. What the Hell do you take me for? Some kind of idiot?"

Andy looked confusedly at both of them.

"You don't understand! I can't leave until you exhaust all three of your wishes."

"Knock it off!" Trowa snapped as he grabbed the small blonde's wrist and began dragging him toward the front door.

"Oh no, please you can't do that!" he cried, "I can't go out there, I can't leave yet why won't you believe me? I'm telling you the truth! Please!"

Trowa opened the door and began to force the smaller male out. The mysterious one tried to resist the opposing force by grabbing the door frame and pushing back.

"I'm begging you, please stop! You don't understand! I'm not lying to you, I can't lea--" He was cut off by a bolt of lightning that seemed to jolt out of the door frame. It struck the entity's hands and both he and Trowa were forced back. They landed on the living room floor with a thud.

Andy screamed in terror before rushing over. Trowa opened his eyes slowly and sat up. He was okay but creature on the floor next to him seemed unconscious. His body still pulsed with electricity for a few seconds. Smoke seemed to emit from his hands and wrists. He laid lifelessly still, his head jerked to the side. His arms were placed on the floor above his head, his body twisted sideways slightly.

"Oh my God, you killed him!" Andy cried with tears in his eyes.

Trowa leaned over and looked at the blonde. He wasn't moving. He was about to shake him to see if he was okay when suddenly he stirred. Trowa was startled but curious.

"Ohhh…" The blonde moaned in pain.

Trowa turned the creature's head towards him and asked, "A-are you okay?"

The creature opened his eyes, "I tried to tell you. That's why I can't leave." He sat up after a moment. "I tried to escape from my master once before and this is what happened. There are penalties put in place to make sure that a genie does not break the rules."

Trowa wasn't quite convinced but he wasn't in disbelief any more either. He looked down at the alleged genie's wrists. They were still smoking. Trowa picked up his arm and pushed the sleeve of his shirt back to reveal a thin gold bangle fixed around his wrist. He examined it thoroughly. There didn't seem to be any kind of clasp or press-stud. It was almost like the cuff had been on his wrist when it was crafted; there was absolutely no way to remove it without cutting it. It was to source of the stream of smoke. Trowa found a matching bangle on his other arm. It also had no clasp. The blonde watched him scrutinize the restraints meticulously. Finally, Trowa released his arm and stood up. He exhaled looking at the genie who sat silently on the floor looking expectantly at the man.

"What is your name?"

He hesitated briefly. "My name?"

"Yes, what do you call yourself?"

"….Quatre," he uttered softly. "Quatre Raberba Winner."

Trowa shut the front door and turned back to the one they now knew was Quatre. "Alright, Quatre, since it seems that you are unable to leave I will allow you to stay but I am not going to feed you."

"But I don't need to eat Master,"

"Why do you call me that? My name is Trowa."

"Who ever frees me from the lamp, is my master and gets three wishes. Those are the rules. I must call you Master because I am now your property," Quatre explained humbly.

Trowa looked at him incredulously then turned away. He disappeared down the hall as if he couldn't handle the situation. Quatre looked after him momentarily then looked down. He was approached by Andy momentarily. He looked at the boy and smiled.

"So, you rubbed the lamp as well?"

Andy only nodded speechlessly.

"What is your name?"

"Andy."

Quatre kneeled in front of the boy. "Master Andy, Perhaps _you_ have a wish that I can grant."

Andy smiled back at the genie. He had a wish alright. He looked straight into Quatre's eyes and said "I wish Trowa had a million dollars!"


	5. Winner

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: PG for mention of cigarette smoking. (Woopty-Doo, I know)

Chapter Five

Winner

It was rather late in the afternoon when Trowa headed off to work. He grabbed his keys but before he headed out the front door, he turned to Andy and said, "Okay listen. I'm gonna be working until nine so behave yourself. Oh and if anything happens, like the house gets robbed again, get out and go over to Heero and Duo's just like before."

Andy smiled and nodded. Trowa returned the smile, and ruffled the boy's hair. Quatre stood back and watch blankly. He was surprised when Trowa looked his way. The look he gave him was half way between a glare and a warning. Quatre could only stare back awkwardly. Trowa approached him and said nothing to him at first. Quatre found it hard to make eye contact with the man and couldn't figure out why he acted so unfriendly to him.

Finally, Trowa said, "Since you can't leave the house, I want to make something clear; you are a guest so I expect you to act accordingly. No touching things that aren't yours, no snooping around, no going in my room, no parties, no drugs, no alcohol, no women. Got it?"

"Y-yes Master. I understand but I would never do any of those things, honestly."

"And one more thing…" Trowa leaned in close to the other male. "If I find out you did anything to upset my cousin, you'll regret the day you were born, got me?"

Quatre nodded frantically. "Yes Master."

Trowa backed away still staring warningly at him. Once again Quatre couldn't meet his gaze. He felt as though he was already in trouble.

Finally Trowa left but not before saying to both of them, "Remember what I said."

It was clear that he was not happy about the situation; leaving an alleged genie along with his cousin while he went to work for seven and a half hours. What could he do though? The genie couldn't leave and he didn't want to rely on Heero and Duo to take care of Andy especially after the kind hospitality they showed them the night before. In his mind he hesitated, somehow knowing he was making a mistake but what was he going to do? He had to work, they needed money desperately. He couldn't take either of them with him so he was stuck.

Too bad there was no daycare at the retirement facility where he worked. He sighed, defeated and got in the car and drove off. In the car, his mind began rationalizing the situation. Don't worry, he thought, Andy can take care of himself, just like yesterday. Besides, Quatre wouldn't dare go against a threat like that.

As he pulled up to the retirement home he saw his boss outside by the laundry bin smoking a cigarette. Trowa waved to him as he got out of his car.

The older man waved back and called out, "How's it going kid?"

"Eh… not good actually. My house got broken into yesterday."

"You're kiddin' me," replied the man.

"No. Look Treiz if you could give me some extra hours this week I would really appreciate it. I'm in a real bind. My apartment was totally wrecked, I have no insurance, nothin. I don't even have a phone now. Please, I promise I'll work hard."

Treiz sucked in a deep breath on his cigarette then exhaled and put it out on the side of the building. "I'd love to give you more hours Trowa, but honestly we're full. We don't need any extra help. Giving you more hours would mean taking hours away from somebody else."

Trowa was silent for a moment. He was trying to think of another way to make more money. "How-how 'bout a raise then, just a small one," He said sheepishly.

Treiz sighed, "You haven't been here long enough. Your first evaluation isn't for another two months."

Trowa had one more idea but all he got out was, "How 'bout…"

Treiz cut him off. "No I cannot promote you to prep cook, I already told you that didn't I?"

Trowa exhaled, dropping his comment reluctantly. He had asked to be promoted come to think of it. He lowered his head.

"Look," Treiz began. "I know you've been havin' a really rough time right now and I would love to help but lets face it, were just too full right now. All the positions are filled."

"Wait I thought you said you were looking to hire another server."

"Yes, the position was filled just yesterday by a girl named Heather," replied Treiz.

"Oh," Trowa said dejectedly.

"I'm sorry Trowa."

Trowa nodded. He could understand. It wouldn't be fair to take from somebody else's schedule; some of his co-workers were just as bad off as he was. He headed into the kitchen walking with his head down and his eyes closed halfway. Not really watching where he was going, he bumped into somebody accidentally knocking them to the side. He heard them say "Hey!" and he looked up to see a girl he had never met before. Backing away, he apologized for bumping into her.

"It's okay," she told him.

Trowa noticed that she was wearing a name tag that said Heather. "Oh you must be the server that Treiz hired yesterday."

"Yes, I'm Heather."

Trowa shook her hand and replied, "I'm Trowa nice to meet you."

Meanwhile back at the apartment Andy was busy putting his room back together. So far he had discovered that he was missing his desk lamp, some comic books, the quarters that were laying on his dresser, and of course, the money from his lock box.

Quatre watch the boy clean his room as he levitated in the doorway. Andy stopped and looked back at him.

"So somebody broke in yesterday, that explains the mess."

Andy nodded.

"Do you want me to help?" Quatre asked softly.

"No, don't worry about it. Once Trowa gets his million dollars we'll be able to afford to hire someone to clean this mess for us. Better yet, we'll be able to move to Bel Air or Malibu." The boy stood up and spreading his arm he said, "Trowa will buy a huge mansion and we'll have butlers and maids. We'll never have to lift a finger for as long as we live. We'll live in the lap of luxury and you'll be there with us Quatre."

"Me? No, I will have to go back in the lamp after you both have made three wishes."

"You mean, after our wishes run out, you'll have to leave us again?"

"Well yes. That's how it works," replied Quatre.

"Oh," Andy sighed. He thought for a moment and then he got an idea.

"What if I never make my third wish, you'd have to stay right?"

"Yes, I suppose," Quatre agreed.

"Then that's what I'll do. Or I'll wish that you would live with us forever, or I could wish you weren't a genie anymore."

Quatre's eyes widened. Not be a genie anymore? He smiled fondly.

"Master Andy, how come you never make wishes for yourself? Why do you want _Trowa_ to have a million dollars?"

Andy smile, "Well what would I do with a million dollars? I'm just a kid."

Quatre's smile widened. He had never met anybody as genuinely thoughtful as this boy here. He admired his selflessness and his rather advanced wisdom. His feet came down to the ground and he placed his hands together around Andy's right hand. He bowed with his eyes closed before the boy. He bowed very low to make sure he was not standing taller than Andy.

"Master I admire your wisdom and selflessness. I wish I was more like you."

Andy watched the humble male. He was rather confused because he had never been bowed to. And Quatre was an elder which made the situation more awkward. An adult should be placed at a status higher than a mere child, not the other way around. At least that was what society had taught him. Suddenly Andy took his hand back from the other male and backed away. He was not frightened but simply uncomfortable.

"Master Andy, I'm sorry, did I behave inappropriately," Quatre asked with concern.

"Why are you bowing to me? I'm just a kid."

Quatre paused momentarily. "Is that wrong?"

"Of course it is. You're a grown-up. You're not suppose to show me respect like I'm better than you. _I'm_ suppose to respect _you_. Don't you know that?"

Now Quatre was confused. Bound by the rules and regulations of being a genie, he didn't know any different. Why would he demand respect from his master? That would be blasphemous. That would be disrespectful and improper. But for some reason, his new master didn't want to be exalted and revered, all because of his age.

"If I should not treat you with significance and bow, then how should I act? I'm only a genie after all."

Hearing this, Andy began to understand where Quatre was coming from but it still made him feel uncomfortable to be worshiped so highly by an elder. He came up with a plan.

"I'll tell you. You should treat me like you would treat a friend. Friends are equals."

"…Are we equals?"

"Yes, because we are friends now."

Quatre smiled, once again in awe of the boy's wisdom and level reasoning. "Very well then Master Andy. We shall be friends from now on."

Andy smile back them glomped his new friend. Quatre yelped, shocked by the boy's abruptness. He blushed nervously and became tense. Never in all of his years of being a genie had his master embraced him. This was beyond his limit of humility and humbleness. This was something he would have never attempted in the past because it was improper. He felt awkward hugging a greater being, thus treating them as though they were his equal, but he had to remember that it was his own master who had hugged him and it would be rude and disrespectful to not accept the gift.

Andy let go and looked at Quatre who was smiling genially. The blonde male was nearly in tears he was so happy and he giggled sweetly.

Andy giggled also. Both were quiet for a moment and then Andy decided to ask, "Will Trowa really get a million dollars?"

"Yes of course Master Andy. I have already granted your wish. Pretty soon you two will be rich, I promise," Quatre assured.

"How will he get it? Will he find it? Will somebody give it to him? Does it just pop out of nowhere? What?" The boy asked excitedly.

"I… Well… I don't know. I don't know where it will come from. When I grant a wish, what I am doing is making a dream into reality. I don't control the manner in which it happens. But don't worry. Now that you've made a wish it has to happen."

"Really? I always thought genies could just make this stuff appear."

Quatre shook his head. "No, we don't make things _appear_, we make things _happen_. Well I suppose I could simply make something _appear_ but you would have specifically wish for that."

Andy was silent for a moment and then said, "But it will happen right?"

"Yes, I promise. Soon Trowa will have a million dollars."

Meanwhile, at the retirement home, Trowa was clearing tables. He went about his work almost absent-mindedly when suddenly an old woman held her coffee cup in the air and called out, "Yoo-hooooo!"

Trowa rolled his eyes and set his tray of dishes on a nearby counter. None of the residents ever seemed to recognize the fact that he was too busy to pour them coffee. It wasn't his job anyway; he was a dishwasher not a server.

He took the pot of coffee and made his way over to the lady who continued to make a big scene.

"I'm coming ma'am," he said hoping she would put her cup down and be patient. She didn't. She pointed obviously to her cup mouthing the word, "Regular."

No shit, Trowa thought. He finally got to her and she finally put her cup down.

"That's regular coffee right?" She asked.

"Sigh! Yes ma'am. It is."

"Well good, I've been waiting for an hour for some service. Why has nobody come by to assist me until just now?"

"I don't know ma'am. I'm only the dishwasher," Trowa said despondently.

"The service in this dinning room stinks. I think I'm going to speak to the manager about the lack of service we're getting around here."

Trowa rolled his eyes, "Should I get him for you?"

"No, let me finish my supper. I'll talk to him later."

Trowa didn't say anything in return. He took up his tray once again and headed back into the kitchen. Almost at the same time as he reached the dishwashing station one of the servers wheeled in a cart full of dirty plates and silver wear. He groaned exhaustedly and began to unload things. Suddenly Treiz approached him.

"Trowa?" He asked.

Trowa stopped spraying dishes for a second and turned to face his boss.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you but Hilde just called. She said she needs to take Wednesday off to see her mother in the hospital. I was wondering, since you aren't working that day, and you want extra hours, could you fill in for her?"

Trowa perked up excitedly and said, "Yes, yes that would be great. Thank you."

"There's just one thing, she works in the morning. Would that be a problem for you?"

Trowa almost laughed. "Are you kiddin' me? I'd come in in the middle of the night if it meant making some money."

"Good. Glad that's taken care of. Oh, one more thing…"

Treiz handed Trowa an envelope. Trowa opened it to find three lottery tickets and a certificate for four dollars off any Round Table Pizza.

"What's this for?" Trowa asked.

"That's your reward for showing up on time every day and working so hard."

Trowa smiled and thanked him. He put the envelope in his pocket and continued with the dishes.

At the end of the night, after he had finished mopping the floors, he shut off the lights and locked up the kitchen. He punched out and then got in his car and headed home. He yawned lazily as he pulled up to a gas station to fill up, if you could call it that. It was more like putting enough gas in his car to get home. He only had a five in his pocket, given to him by a coworker who owed him money for cigarettes. He stood in line behind an older woman and a business man. There was a T.V. on a high shelf along the back wall behind the gas station clerk. It was set to the lottery.

Trowa suddenly remembered the lottery tickets that Treiz had given to him. He took them out of his pocket and looked at them.

484901, 864287, 903441.

Trowa stared at the black and white T.V. As the numbers flashed on the screen. 9-0-3-4-4-1. Trowa's eyes widened and he chuckled in excitement and disbelief. He felt his face become pale with shock. He had a better chance of being hit by lightning after all. The last ticket was the winner, but how much was the lottery this time.

Trowa left the line and got closer to the T.V. to hear them announce the reward.

"……And those are the winning numbers for tonight's lottery. Remember, if your ticket matches these numbers you are the winner of one million dollars…."

Trowa's jaw dropped and he went white as a sheet. He read his tickets again to make sure. Suddenly his stomach clenched and he became light headed. There was no mistake. He was the winner of one million dollars. He lost his balance and stumbled back a few feet and knocked over a box of chewing gum trying to prevent himself from falling.

"Sir, are you okay?" Asked the store clerk.

Trowa looked at her as if snapping out of a daze.

"Did you want to buy something Sir?"

Trowa got down and picked up the packs of gum, hastily placing them back in the box. "S-sorry" he stuttered. When he got to his feet again he looked at the clerk and pulled the five out of his pocket. He set it on the counter and pointed to where his car was parked next to the gas pump. He swallowed, trying hard to speak.

"Number Three Sir?" asked the clerk.

"Ye-ahem! Yes, thank you," Trowa replied shakily.

The woman looked at him suspiciously and then took the five and put it in the register. She typed something into the computer and said, "Okay, all ready for ya."

Trowa thanked her briefly and walked numbly out to his car to fill his tank. Afterwards, he went back in to get his receipt from the clerk then he returned to his car starting it up and buckling his seatbelt. He sat silently for a moment. Without knowing it, an odd smile tugged at the corners of his lips and a muffled chuckle echoed in his throat.

Inside the gas station store the clerk was helping a male customer buy some mints when the both of them were scared shitless by someone yelling "Yesssss!" They turned to see the young man with the ridiculously long bangs in the car, hands fisted and raised above his head. Suddenly Trowa noticed the silence and looked over to see not only the clerk and her costumer, but everyone else filling up as well. He lowered his arms and blushed furiously red. The store clerk's mouth hung open as she shook her head exasperatedly. He finally put his car in drive and pulled away, thoroughly humiliated. Although, what did that matter, he was officially a millionaire now.


	6. Slave To Immortality

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: R for language and slight sexuality

Chapter Six

Slave to Immortality

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5…" the boy counted as he stood in the corner of the hallway, his hands over his eyes. "…10, 11, 12…" Meanwhile the sly entity drifted through the air in the apartment searching. His head darted from left to right as he tried to decide on the perfect hiding spot.

"…18, 19, 20. Ready or not, here I come," Andy shouted as he opened his eyes and turned to exit the hall.

"Uh-oh," Quatre whispered as he began searching frantically for a hiding place. Finally he got it. He soared up effortlessly and spread out his limbs pressing his back to the ceiling. He'd never find him here he thought. Suddenly Andy appeared from the hallway and began searching.

"Quatre, I'm gonna find you," boy called softly.

Quatre watched with amusement as the boy scanned the living room and the kitchen. When he didn't find anything, he headed into the kitchen and began opening the cabinets and looking under the sink.

Quatre's ears perked up upon hearing a clicking noise. He turned his head and watched as the front door opened to reveal his other, more surly master. Trowa slung his coat on the back of the chair and then called out "Andy I'm home."

Andy's face appeared from behind the counter and smiled. "Hey Cuz."

"What are you doing in the Kit-chen?" Trowa asked just as he caught sight of the blonde male who was laying flat against the ceiling. Quatre looked shocked for a moment.

"Quatre and I were playing hide and seek and he's hiding," Andy replied.

Trowa slowly turned his attention back to the boy, "I see."

"You haven't seen him have you?" asked the boy.

Trowa turned his eyes back to Quatre for a moment almost in disbelief. Quatre slowly put his finger to his lips, silently requesting that Trowa not reveal his hiding spot. Trowa was slightly dumfounded by the situation but he did not want to spoil their game. He averted his gaze from the entity who seemed to have glued his whole body to the top of the room, and said nonchalantly as he continued down the hall, "Nope, can't say that I have."

Quatre breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that Trowa was being such a good sport. He seemed to be in a better mood now than when they met earlier that day. Quatre smiled softly, relieved to know that his master wasn't always in an unpleasant mood.

Just then he heard, "Quatre, come out, come out where ever you are." He stiffened up trying to stay as still as possible. He watched as Andy walked cautiously around the living room checking behind the furniture, under the furniture, in the couch cousins and behind the empty T.V. stand. Finally he stood back and scratched his head. "Hm…"

All of a sudden he saw something out of the corner of his eye and he stopped abruptly. He turned instantly to find the blonde male and announced triumphantly, "I found you!"

Quatre immediately detached himself from the ceiling and landed silently. He didn't hesitate though as he knew Andy was good and ready to tag him. As soon as his feet touched the ground he made a mad dash down the hallway.

"Oh no you don't," Andy growled as he chased after the slight genie. Quatre looked over his shoulder to see small boy gaining on him. He was merely feet away from being home free when suddenly Andy lunged forward and tackled his playmate. The both of them plummeted to the carpet just inches away from the linen closet which they dubbed 'home free'. Quatre skidded across the floor receiving a harsh rug burn on his left cheek. They slammed into the linen closet and finally came to a stop.

"Hahahaha! Your it. You have to count now." Andy teased relentlessly.

Quatre sat up and rubbed his cheek tenderly trying to soothe the pain. "Ow! I don't remember hide and seek ever being quite this painful."

"Oh, did I hurt you Quatre? I'm sorry," Andy apologized and crawled up to his injured playmate.

"I think I'm alright," Quatre said. He smiled despite the burning sensation he felt on the entire left side of his face. He had quite an impressive raspberry. Andy cringed at the size and sheer redness of the affected area.

"Ooh. That looks awful Quatre we should put some medicine on it."

"Oh no. That won't be necessary Master Andy. It will be gone in an hour or so. Genies heal very quickly."

"But it could get infected," Andy insisted.

"Impossible. I am immune to such things."

"Really?"

"Why yes. I am a genie; I am indestructible, invincible, and immortal."

"You mean you can't die?" Andy asked with marvel.

Quatre's smile slowly vanished. His eyes revealed pain and regret. "No, I can't."

Andy noticed Quatre's sudden change in mood and was confused. What was he so upset about, thought the boy, he was fortunate to be able to cheat death infinitely.

"What is the matter with you? Don't you know how lucky you are?"

"I am not lucky."

Andy looked confusedly at Quatre.

Quatre sighed and his smile returned but his eyes still looked very sad. "You are still too young to understand. Death is not an issue for you as of now and probably won't be for a long time."

Andy still looked rather dumfounded.

"Look it's nothing to worry over Master. I should not trouble others with my plight. My problems should be nobodies' but my own."

Andy became uneasy by his friends sudden misery.

Suddenly Trowa appeared from his room. "You two sure make a lot of noise," he said, slight irritation present in his tone. After a moment he caught sight of the huge red mark on Quatre's cheek. "What happened to you?"

Quatre touched his cheek self consciously. "I-uh…"

"He got a rug burn when I tackled him just now. It's my fault, I knocked him on the ground," Andy explained.

"Andy, you should be more gentle. You could have hurt him much worse than you did."

Andy hung his head guiltily.

Quatre stepped forward to exonerate the boy. "Please do not blame him. We were roughhousing Master Trowa, it was only an accident."

Trowa stared for a moment, searching the blue eyed boy, and then he smiled. Afterwards he walked back into his room. "Have you eaten yet Andy?"

"Oh yeah Quatre made some cornbread and a baked potato for me."

"How 'bout dessert then?"

Andy was silent for a moment. "Trowa, we don't have any desserts. Not even ice cream, remember?"

"Mm-hm," agreed Trowa as he slipped his work shirt over his head. "But I though it might be nice to go out to the frozen yogurt place down the street." He said as he looked through his closet for something, anything that wasn't stolen. He found an old turtleneck and put it on.

"Isn't that place expensive Cuz?"

Trowa chuckled. "You shouldn't worry about money, that's my job. Besides I have good news. Neither of us is going to worry about money ever again because I won the lottery tonight. I even went and had the money deposited into the bank before I came home."

"Let me guess, a million dollars?" Andy smiled.

Trowa was taken a back. "Exactly that. How did you know?" he asked.

Andy smiled and looked at Quatre, then looked back at his cousin. "I made my first wish earlier today. I wished that you had a million dollars and Quatre made it come true."

Trowa's brows lowered almost angrily as he turned to the genie. Quatre wasn't sure what to make of that awkward stare. Trowa looked upset. Once again, Quatre averted his gaze. He couldn't look into the other man's eyes at the moment. He blushed self consciously, wishing Trowa would say something instead of gawking at him with that fierce looking expression on his face. He finally decided to ask, "Is something wrong Master?"

Trowa shook his head breaking the gaze. "No. Let's go get some frozen yogurt." Trowa began to leave the room when he heard Andy say, "Wait! Trowa we can't. Quatre's not allowed to leave the house."

Trowa stopped in the door way and turned slightly. Now he remembered. Quatre would be stricken down again if he attempted to walk through the front door.

Suddenly Quatre spoke up. "That isn't entirely true actually."

Trowa and Andy both looked at him in surprise.

"I am allowed to leave but only if my master returns me to the lamp."

Trowa sighed. He still wasn't buying the whole lamp thing. "Okay, I'll play along and 'put you back in the lamp'. So how do I do that?"

Quatre smiled holding his hands out in the air. At that moment, the lamp seemed to fall out of nowhere right into his palms. Quatre stepped up to the taller man handing him the trinket.

Trowa stood looking at the lamp, then at Quatre, then back at the lamp.

Quatre chuckled. "Just say 'I order you to return to the lamp'."

"Uh… I order you to return to the lamp," Trowa repeated halfheartedly.

Suddenly, the lamp trembled and let out an airy sound like someone inhaling deeply. Trowa looked up to see Quatre begin to dissolve into the air and get sucked back through the spout of the old oil lamp. Trowa watched, astounded, his mouth agape. Quatre was disappearing before his very eyes; evaporating into a purple mist that drifted through the air and back into the brass object in his hands. It was like he was dreaming but he wasn't, he was wide awake and this had really happened.

He was dragged back to reality when Andy snatched the lamp away from him. "C'mon Cuz let's get going. It won't be open all night you know. We're lucky they're open _this_ late. It's already ten." The boy dashed excitedly down the hall completely unfazed by the spectacular show of magic and enchantment.

Trowa followed shortly, meeting the boy at the car. Andy was bouncing impatiently as he waited for his older cousin to finally unlock the doors. He climbed in immediately buckling his seatbelt and did a little more bouncing as he waited for Trowa to start the car. It seemed like a very long wait for the boy but eventually they were on the road. When they pulled up to the frozen yogurt parlor Trowa saw two shady figures approach them. They were on his side of the car. As they got closer Trowa could see them in better detail; skimpy skirts, tops revealing cleavage, high-rising black leather boots and high heels, black leather jackets and fish-net stockings. One woman leaned down and looked in the window of the car, her face was slathered heavily with gaudy makeup. Trowa blanched, his heart jolted frightfully upon seeing the strange women

"Hey Hansom. How 'bout droppin' the kid off for some ice cream and coming with us."

The other woman leaned in. She was younger but wore just as much if not more makeup. "Don't worry, we won't keep you long. He'll be fine."

"Trowa?" Andy whimpered shakily.

"So your name is Trowa ha? Mine's Shaila," purred the younger girl.

"And I'm Tabitha. What do you say to a little fun? You can have us both if you want."

"Look ladies. Thanks but no thanks. I don't do that sort of thing. Sorry." Trowa said as he turned the key and started the car again.

"Oh c'mon now. You don't even want to give it a go? I'll even give you a discount 'cause you're such a stud." offered Tabitha.

"I said fuck off! I'm not interested," Trowa almost shouted out his window. He rapidly switched into reverse, pulling away from the women. He gave them one last show of disapproval shouting out at them, "Come near us again and I'm calling the police!" With that he wrenched the car into drive and sped away.

Both of them were silent for a moment. Then Andy asked, "D-did you know them."

"No," Trowa almost whispered. There was a hint of peril and caution in his tone.

Andy looked down. They had stopped at a red light.

"what about frozen yogurt?" he asked softly.

"I know another place," Trowa replied despondently.

This place was miles away from their neighborhood in a much more upscale part of L.A. Trowa parked and turned the car off. Andy was looking at him, his eyes almost pleading for an explanation. Trowa could see by the way the boy stared that soon he would have to have 'the talk' with him. He sighed in a defeated sort of way.

"Andy," he began, "Do you… You've heard about… Um…"

Andy blinked and kept staring waiting for his cousin to complete his sentence.

"Do you know what a prostitute is?" Trowa asked with flushed cheeks. He felt slightly uncomfortable asking a twelve-year-old what he knew about hookers and their sleazy profession.

"Yes," Andy mumbled, also blushing.

"Those women back there, they were prostitutes."

Andy nodded but didn't look at his cousin.

"You know that what they're doing is against the law right?"

Andy nodded again.

"And for somebody to pick up a prostitute and pay them for sex is also against the law. It's also wrong, do you understand?"

"Yes," Andy murmured.

"Good, as long as you know. Let's get some frozen yogurt now."

"Okay," said Andy as he unbuckled. "Oh, what about Quatre?"

Trowa stopped and grabbed the lamp off of the back seat. He thought for a moment. He couldn't just rub the lamp in inside the shop. Someone would surely notice. He had to think of a way to get Quatre out without being noticed. "I think I have a plan."

When the two of them entered the shop, Trowa went straight to the restroom. Andy sat down at a table to wait. Once in the restroom, Trowa locked the door. It was a one person bathroom luckily so he didn't have to worry about sharing the area with others. He took the lamp out of his pocket and rubbed it. It jolted in his hands and spewed the purple smoke that eventually became Quatre.

"Is this the frozen yogurt parlor?"

"No it's just the bathroom in the frozen yogurt parlor. I couldn't let you out in plain sight of the public," Trowa whispered. He looked at Quatre noticing that something looked strange. He was still wearing that dressy getup. "Uh, you didn't have to wear that outside. You look like you're going to a high school prom."

"Oh, you're right, this is too formal," Quatre giggled. He closed his eyes and held out his arms. Suddenly his clothes morphed and warped themselves into a black T-shirt and jean shorts. His shoes became sneakers and a gold necklace linked itself around his neck.

Trowa watch in amazement as the blonde male drifted down to the ground and smiled.

"Is this better?" asked Quatre.

Trowa looked at Quatre's shirt. It had a Dysfunctional Bunny Rabbit on it saying "It's cute how stupid you are". Trowa quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Isn't this what teens wear these days? You'll have to help me out, I'm really behind the times."

"You sound like an old man," Trowa chuckled.

"Yes, well I'm over a thousand years old and I only see the light of day every once in while if I'm lucky."

"Oh that's bull. You don't look a day over twenty."

"Eighteen actually," Quatre corrected.

"Excuse me?"

"Eighteen. I don't look a day over eighteen."

Needless to say Trowa was thoroughly confused. How could somebody be over a thousand years old and not look a day over eighteen? Stranger things had happened that day though so he felt he had little right to question the genie's explanation on the subject of age.

"Master Trowa, are we going to stay in here much longer?"

Trowa blinked, then he realized they were still standing in restroom. He turned and unlocked the door. "Here go on out." Trowa told him. Quatre did so and looked around. Trowa tucked the lamp back into his pocket before joining him.

The place was mostly empty. Andy waved at them from his spot at the table. Quatre smiled and waved back. He went to sit down with the boy. Trowa approached the counter and asked the clerk for a black cherry and a key lime. He asked Quatre if he wanted one but the genie politely declined. The clerk handed him the two frozen yogurts and then Trowa joined the other two. Andy smiled and thanked his cousin and then started in on his black cherry.

Quatre sat silently, smiling softly. He placed his elbows on the table top and rested his chin on his knuckles. He seemed rather content. Trowa glanced over at him and couldn't help but smile as well. Though he did not fully understand his enchanted ways and odd behavior, he was curtain he wasn't a threat. In any case, things had started to look up since Quatre's arrival; he was now a millionaire who could afford to see a doctor about his condition, eat regularly again, move to a nicer neighborhood, and buy things that weren't on the weekly shopping list. This was good for Andy too because he now had a playmate and somebody to watch him while Trowa was working.

It wouldn't be bad at all. When he met Quatre he wasn't too excited about having another person living in his home but as the day wore on, he began to gather that Quatre might be exactly what he claimed to be, a genie. An all powerful being with no need to eat or sleep, whose only lot in life is granting wishes. Trowa lowered his grin slightly. What a sad existence, he thought. You grant wishes and obey your master and when you are no longer needed, you hibernate until someone new shows up and then the whole cycle starts over from the beginning.

Quatre noticed the man looking at him and turned to face him. "Yes Master Trowa?"

Trowa shook his head, "Nothing."

Quatre didn't say anything else before turning away again and smiling once again.

Trowa pressed his lips tightly together. He felt slightly guilty. Did Quatre ever feel upset about basically being an enchanted slave? Did he ever yearn for more in his life? Maybe being a genie meant that he lacked the ability to want. He did seem perfectly happy with the hand God had dealt him after all. However, he had said that he tried escaping from a former master so perhaps he wasn't always this mellow and accepting. Trowa decided he would have to find out.

"Quatre?" he almost mumbled.

Quatre turned to face him still smiling.

"I wish you could come and go as you please, as long as you return when I call you."

Quatre's eyes grew large and his mouth gaped. He was utterly shocked.


	7. Trauma

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: A 3X4 Fic

Rating: R for language and sexual act against a minor (Abuse in Trowa's past)

Chapter Seven

Trauma

Two weeks passed since the night Trowa won the lottery. Two weeks since that day when Quatre entered his miserable life and turned his world upside-down. Two weeks and he became thoroughly convinced that not all myths were lies. He had spent a small sum of his million dollars but it was worth it to leave his apartment for an actual house in a much nicer part of the city. It was nothing extremely elaborate but it was a giant leap from where they were living. A charming two story house which stood atop a hill overlooking Los Angeles Valley. Trowa didn't want to squander his fortune but he didn't want to be a stingy miser either. He was determined to live a better life from now on.

He maintained his job as a dishwasher in order keep up his fortune though no longer begged Treiz for extra hours and over time. In fact, he reduced his work time to three and a half hours a day, five days a week. This gave him more time to spend with Andy and just relax. He was even able to drop him off at school in the morning and pick him up in the afternoon and he moved his work schedule to the breakfast time shift so that he wasn't working at night. He started eating healthy amounts again and gained back the weight he had lost from starving for so long. He felt much better all though he still got sick once in a while. He suspected acid reflux was the cause and not just the stress. He could usually hold it in, better than before anyway, but he was still getting sick every now and again so he made an appointment to see a doctor.

Quatre was enjoying his small freedom immensely. He was timid at first, afraid of being shocked. He had been trained for so many years not to leave his master's home that the idea of being free to come and go felt foreign to him. Eventually he realized that it was safe to leave house and he started using it to his advantage. He always came back within an hour or so. Trowa never had to call him. Quatre became fond of exploring while his masters were busy at school and work. One day he even brought home a stray kitten he found behind a trash bag in an alley. It was a white kitten with blue eyes and a tail that looked like it had been dipped in grey ink. Trowa was slightly reluctant to let it stay at first but he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it, not after he saw how much it clung to the genie. Besides, he had to admit that it was cute. It became quite fond of all three of them and vise-versa. They decided to name it Alley, for the place where Quatre had discovered it.

This new life worked for all of them. Especially Andy who had begun to excel in all of his classed. Since Trowa had more time to assist him in his studies, Andy was catching on to his subjects much quicker. He was getting straight As before long and Trowa was very proud of him. It seemed the change of lifestyle was just what they all needed.

The night had been a pleasant one and Trowa slept soundly all the way through. He lay motionless and sprawled out carelessly. It was eight o' clock on a Saturday morning and he was still snoozing. His door creaked open and the blonde genie gingerly peaked his head in.

"Master?" he whispered.

He saw the sheets rustle slightly in response. He smiled, relieved that he wasn't intruding while his master was changing. That would have been far too bold of him and quite out of line for a servant. However he had to at least check because it was Andy, his other master who had asked him to look in on Trowa. Trying to be obedient and courteous at the same time was no easy task in this case. Luckily, Trowa was not dressing or doing anything private so there was no need to be cautious.

Quatre approached the bed silently and looked down at his dosing master. Trowa was smiling softly or at least he appeared to be. His eyelids stirred slightly but did not open; a sign that he was dreaming. He looked so serene that Quatre was reluctant to wake him but of course he knew he had to. He sat down on edge, ever so gently, and reached with one hand to take hold of Trowa's upper arm.

"Master Trowa? It is morning. Time to wake up," he said softly as he shook Trowa's arm gently but firmly.

Trowa groaned, scrunching his face and arching his back in a typical wakeup stretch. Then he yawned and rubbed his face with the bases of his palms. His eyes gradually fluttered open and looked around the room studiously before finally landing their gaze on the genie.

"Quatre…?"

"Forgive me Master Trowa but Master Andy requested that I make sure you were awake. He said you need to get ready for your doctor's appointment."

Trowa paused for a moment, squinting his eyes while looking at the ceiling. He looked as if he was searching the dark depths of his mind in recollection. Doctor's appointment, doctor's appointment…Holy Shit! Doctor's Appointment!

"Fffuck!" Trowa hissed as he threw back the sheets. He was only wearing a pair of boxers and his gloves. Quarter blushed, watching the other man spring from the bed and stagger over to his dresser. He averted his eyes guiltily as Trowa pulled on a pair of jeans. Quatre continued blushing, the image of his half naked master still fresh in his mind. He swallowed the lump rising in his throat.

"Crap! I can't believe I forgot to set my alarm." Trowa appeared before the blonde male once again, this time fully clothed. Quatre tagged along, feet hovering above the ground as Trowa left the room in a hurry. When he got down stares he saw his younger cousin in the living room watching Saturday morning cartoons.

"Andy, how come you didn't wake me sooner? You know I have a doctor's appointment at eight thirty."

"Whoa! Since when is it my responsibility to wake you up in the morning? You have an alarm clock," the boy argued.

Trowa growled, mostly because he was frustrated that he forgot to set his alarm. "Okay, okay just go wait for me in the car I need to grab my wallet and keys."

Andy turned off the television with a groan. Now he wouldn't catch the end. He went out to wait in the front seat of Trowa's old Chevy El Camino. It was not the most attractive car on the planet, being a cruck and all, but it still ran so he saw no reason to scrap it for a new vehicle. It served its purpose.

Trowa showed up momentarily with the genie close behind him. He fiddled with his keys as he walked to the car. "Are you going exploring today?" he asked the blonde male.

"Uh… Maybe for while. I'll be back in time to make lunch," Quatre replied.

"Actually I think Andy wanted to have Mc Donald's so there's no need to hurry back. Just be careful; don't talk to strangers, watch the traffic, and try not to draw attention to yourself with your magic or whatever."

"Master, everything is under control. I promise to stay safe and I'll keep an ear open just in case you call me. Now hurry or you will be late for your appointment," Quatre said as he eased Trowa to the driver's side door. It opened on its own; or rather Quatre opened it without physically touching it.

Trowa sat down and turned the key in the ignition. The car roared to life. Quatre shut the door again magically and then waved to them as he backed away. Trowa smiled slightly and gave a quick wave. The boy in the passenger seat beamed Quatre an enormous smile and also waved as the car backed down the drive way. Quatre stood on the porch and watched as they drove down the street and disappeared. Once they were out of sight Quatre looked inquiringly in the other direction to gaze down upon the vast city. Where would he go today? What was left that he had yet to explore? He remembered the night before, Trowa had said something about a movie theatre, but that would cost money. Then again, if no one sees you enter the building… Yes, it was dishonest but one free show wouldn't hurt the business. Quatre drifted down the hill effortlessly until he approached a street with a bus stop. People were present and not wanting to draw attention to himself, he lowered himself to the concrete sidewalk. He strolled calmly over to stand next to the small gathering of mainly old folks and teens. Luckily, Quatre had finally gotten his fashion sense dialed. When he went out, he only dressed in a T-shirt and shorts or jeans. Today he was wearing a Volcom T and a pair of Dickies. On his feet he wore a pair of Converse All Stars, the original kind that cover the ankles. Today he was a punk but tomorrow, who knows?

The bus pulled up to the curb and its doors folded open. The people lined up to get on and paid the fifty cent fare. The fare was indeed an obstacle but luckily, Quatre had found a way around this one. He approached the coin box and deceitfully places his and upon it. Then he concentrated a small amount of energy into the box causing a slight clink! As a few of the coins on top rose and then fell back on the others. Of course the driver wasn't paying an exorbitant amount of attention and didn't catch on to the crafty genies bluff.

Once passed that point, Quatre looked around. It was a full bus today. He saw a seat next to a man in a suit and asked if he could sit down. The man only smiled and nodded. Quatre returned the smile politely and took his seat next to the aisle.

Meanwhile, Trowa and Andy were just pulling up to the doctor's office, slightly late of course. Trowa dashed threw the automatic doors with Andy fallowing at a distance.

"Jesus Cuz, slow down. They give you ten minutes before your appointment is cancelled," He huffed as he struggled to keep up with the frantic man who still had notable bed-head.

"C'mon Andy. Pick up the pace. It's already eight thirty two."

The boy groaned and ran to catch up with Trowa. Luckily, it was still very early in the morning and not many people were present as the two bolted down hallways and through doors until they reached the waiting room. Trowa burst through the door and looked around. There was only one other person sitting with a magazine in the corner and no line at the window.

"God! _I'm_ gonna need a doctor before we leave here if you keep runnin' me around like that," muttered Andy.

Trowa didn't respond to him. Instead he went straight to the counter and handed the lady his medical card. She slid the card pulled up Trowa's information on the computer.

"Mister Barton, eight thirty appointment?"

"Yes," Trowa answered breathlessly.

"Okay, that will be twelve dollars.

Trowa opened his wallet and pulled out a ten and two ones and handed them to the lady. She took the money and made up a receipt. She then handed him a slip of paper and told him to put it in the box for the doctor.

Trowa was about to do so when he heard the lady say something she had just remembered.

"I almost forgot to mention to you that Doctor Frances called in sick today so you will be seeing Doctor Martin instead. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"Oh okay," he said with a nod.

He placed the form in the box and was about to sit down when he heard a man's voice call his name. He turned back to see a male doctor in a lab coat and black pants holding the form and looking out into the waiting room. Trowa was stunned, and not in a good way. He didn't know that his doctor's replacement was a man. He had intentionally made this appointment to be with Doctor Frances because she was a woman. He was not looking for a physician of the opposite sex necessarily but having a female doctor did put him at ease. He didn't trust male doctors. For a long while he could only stare at the other man. Doctor Martin stared back awkwardly before asking "Are you Trowa?"

Trowa shook himself out of his daze before answering "Yes. I'm Trowa. Sorry."

The other man held out his hand. Trowa accepted it but mostly let the other man do the shaking. The Doctor introduced himself. Trowa only forced a smile in return.

Andy watched as his cousin disappeared behind the door with the doctor before burying his nose in a celebrity gossip magazine.

Trowa followed Doctor Martin up to the scale in the hall. He slipped off his shoes and then stepped up to be weighed and measured. The doctor moved the weights until the bar was balanced then he pulled up the ruler the measure him. "Six feet even and a hundred and thirty two pounds," said the doctor as he wrote it down on his click board.

Trowa stepped down and slid his feet back into his shoes. He fallowed the other man further down the hall until they came to an examination room. Doctor Martin held the door open for Trowa who entered, but timidly. He sat down on the examining table, the paper crinkling underneath him. He gulped. He hadn't been seen by a male doctor in years and it made him very uncomfortable to be alone in a little room with one now. The doctor sat in the office chair across from him and observed him for a moment. His eyes squinted curiously and he asked, "Is something wrong Mister Barton?"

Trowa blinked at him for a moment, oblivious. Then realized he had been kneading the fingers on his left hand with his right once again. He abruptly stopped and shoved his hands in his pants pockets to stop the squeaking.

"I'm fine," Trowa lied.

The Doctor cleared his throat before looking down at his clip board. "So Mister Barton, you say you've been experiencing nausea and vomiting lately, how long have you had these symptoms?"

"Um. How long? I'd say about two months," Trowa answered.

"Mm-hm," The doctor mumbled as he jotted it down. "About how often are you experiencing symptoms?"

"Once a week, about."

The questions continued with all the standard motives for about five or six minutes and then came the part Trowa dreaded most of all; the physical examination. Doctor Martin stood up and approached Trowa. Trowa clenched his teeth together firmly, his mind summoning up lost memories. The images had never been so crystal clear as they flickered in his mind like a slide show of terror.

_/Trowa was alone, sitting on the examination table. The doctor approached him, slowly. He unraveled the stethoscope from around his neck._

"_Unbutton your shirt, Trowa. Let me listen to your heart."_

_He obeyed, opening the front of his shirt one button at a time./_

Doctor Martin reached out and removed the eye/ear examiner. He looked in Trowa's eyes, flashing the narrow beam of light directly into his retinas. Trowa was trying his hardest to stay calm. He wanted so badly to just close his eyelids and hide.

_/Trowa sat as the man pressed the stethoscope to his bare chest. The boy shivered. The doctor had placed one hand on his shoulder, kneading his shirt fabric amorously._

"_Remove your shirt and turn to the left so I may check your lungs."_

_Once again, trusting and confident, Trowa obeys, removing his shirt completely and turning a quarter to the left. The stethoscope met the smooth skin of his upper back while a rough hand snaked around him and settled firmly in the middle of his chest._

"_Now take a deep breath."_

_Trowa obeyed, breathing in slowly, then back out. The stethoscope moved to the other side of his back and he was told once more to inhale. The hand on his chest was not idle. It moved to caress one sensitive round nub./_

Doctor Martin finished looking into Trowa's eyes and ears and set the medical instrument back in its little holder, throwing away the plastic end piece.

"So you become nauseous usually after eating, correct?"

"…Yes," Trowa answered.

"Does laying down make it worse?"

Trowa hesitated, "Sometimes."

"Hm… That sounds like Gastritis," the doctor affirmed.

Doctor Martin took the listening pieces of his stethoscope and inserted them into his ears. Trowa cringed. Now he would have to undress like before. He hesitated, his fingers hovering over his shirt buttons indecisively.

"Just one button will do," said the doctor.

Trowa relinquished the first button and allowed the doctor to slip the stethoscope under his shirt. It was cold. Trowa could feel his heart begin to race and despite his best efforts, could not stop it. Surely the doctor had noticed but the other man said nothing in regards to it.

_/The doctor withdrew and asked Trowa to come down from the examination table._

_Trowa obeyed though he was becoming uncomfortable in the man's presence. He overruled his suspicion however, chalking it up to his overactive imagination._

_The doctor stood behind Trowa and grasping the boy's waist, turned him toward the examination table. Trowa went pale but once again blamed his suspicions on his foolish young mind._

"_Bend over the table, Trowa. I need to examine your back for scoliosis."_

_Trowa was hesitant this time around, leaning over gingerly. He could almost feel the doctor dissecting him with his eyes. He was staring, ogling, and Trowa knew it. He tried to deny reason in order to calm down but he couldn't ignore common sense any longer. Yet he did not fight back. He felt trapped, overwhelmed. He froze as the doctor set his hands on Trowa's shoulders. The boy could feel tears threatening his eyes and his half naked body trembled unknowingly. He knew the man was smiling, he could sense it._

_Rough hands moved down his back continuously, never lifting. The sick bastard! He was getting off on this./_

After Doctor Martin had listened to Trowa's heart he removed the stethoscope saying, "'Kay. You can button your shirt back up."

Trowa felt relief wash over him. At least that part was over, he thought. The other man took his clip board and jotted down some notes while Trowa was fixing his shirt.

"Okay," said Doctor Martin, "May I ask that you lay on your back for a second?"

Trowa jolted and went pale. "M-my back?"

"Yes. I need to examine your abdomen; I just want to make sure there are no abnormalities going on that could be the cause of your condition. Just a precaution. You wouldn't want me to just put you on meds for gastritis if that isn't what's making you sick."

Trowa paused for a moment, contemplating this. The other man had been trustworthy so far, what were the chances he would take advantage of him now. He did have a reasonably good explanation after all. Trowa hesitated briefly before laying face up on the examination table. Doctor Martin approached him with latex gloves on his hands. He peeled Trowa's shirt back exposing his belly. Then one latex clad hand pressed its self to Trowa's abdomen, feeling just below his ribs. Trowa found it hard to keep from cringing for this was an uncomfortable situation.

_/Suddenly those hands maneuvered around the boy's waist. They glided over innocent skin until they met with thick denim./_

Doctor Martin's hand continued lower and lower until he was just below Trowa's navel.

_/The doctor didn't even hesitate as he slid one rough hand into the waist band of Trowa's jeans. Trowa gasped as tears streaked his pale cheeks._

"_W-what are you doing? Stop!"_

_The doctor's only reply was to hush the boy and close a hand over his pleading mouth. Trowa continued his crying, though in muffled sobs. He suddenly hated himself. What a fool he was, he thought. How could he have let this happen? He had let himself fall victim to the slimy hands of a lowlife pedophile. He should have run. He should have fled when he had the opportunity. Now it was too late, the man had him pinned to the spot. There was no escape. It was hopeless./_

It was all too much for him. Trowa tensed when he felt pressure applied firmly to his lower abdomen. He gasped, and shot back up to a seated position, slapping the other man's hand away. His eyes swelled with unshed tears as he jumped up from the examination table.

"M-Mister Barton! Where are you going?" Asked the doctor.

Trowa didn't respond to him as he stormed though the door of the small room into the hallway. He trekked hastily back towards the waiting room, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he went. Andy's head bolted up as Trowa burst through the door.

"Hey, something wro-." The boy was cut off as Trowa grabbed his hand and started to drag him towards the exit.

"Whoa! Cuz. What's the matter?"

Trowa didn't answer _him_ either. Instead he trudged on until they reached the car.

Andy got in cautiously, slightly fazed by his cousin's sudden bizarre behavior. He was curious as to what had caused this but he wisely kept his mouth shut.


	8. Confinential

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: R for language and brief sexuality

Chapter Eight

Confidential 

It was about nine thirty in the morning and Quatre was sitting in the back of the theatre, his legs crossed astutely as he viewed the romantic comedy which was flickering on the giant screen before him. He watched engagingly at the cute high school lovers walking mindlessly while gazing at one another. Suddenly the girl tripped and landed flat on her face. The whole theatre became alive with laughter but Quatre only smirked and chuckled softly. This was a good movie, he thought as the boy on screen helped the girl back to her feet. After all what was love without laughter?

Back at the house, his two masters were arriving home from the hospital. Trowa stormed through the front door with Andy staggering to keep up with him.

"Trowa? What the hell is wrong with you!" the boy shouted. He purposely said "What the hell" knowing how much it pissed the man off when he swore. His intention was to spur Trowa into scolding him, into giving him any kind of reaction at all. His effort was a failure though. Trowa didn't even hesitate. He continued across the living room. Andy watched his cousin with interest and concern. He followed as Trowa began to ascend the stairs.

"So I guess Mc Donald's is out of the question then?"

Again, Trowa ignored the boy. He just kept on walking until he reached the top of the stares. He opened his bedroom door, entered, and then closed it behind him. Andy watched for a moment and was surprised to hear a small click. He was taken aback somewhat. Why had Trowa locked his bedroom door? Andy walked up the stairs and stood outside Trowa's bedroom door for a moment. He placed his ear to the door but heard nothing; he knocked and got no answer.

"Trowa, what's wrong? Why did you lock the door?" he called. Still no answer. "Trowa! Open the door you're scaring me!"

He pounded on the door but it did not budge. Trowa didn't even tell him to stop beating on the door or stop shouting. This wasn't normal at all. There was something very wrong. The boy stood back fisting his hands in frustration.

Inside the room, Trowa sat huddled up on the floor next to his bed. His knees were pulled to his chest, his arms wrapped around them and his nose buried in the gap between them. He blocked out all reality even his poor cousin's frantic shouting and violent assault on his bedroom door. He tried to empty his mind he wanted it to be completely blank. He didn't want to know anything. The world seemed too harsh a place right now and his mind seemed like an even worse one. It would have been wonderful if he could just forget everything and start over. But this hurtful memory played itself over and over again. He had forgotten for a while; shoved it to the back of his mind where the cobwebs could conceal from him the truth. What had happened? Why did he have to remember now?

His gloved hands squeaked as he strangled the fabric of his jeans in his fists. Trowa lifted his head to look at his hands. He had hid _them_ from the world as well. He had refused to remove them from the time he was thirteen. That was such a long time ago. He wouldn't even remove them for his mother. She had always told him that he could tell her anything but when he actually had a genuine problem he was too ashamed to say a word.

Trowa let go of his pant legs and stared at his the palms of his gloved hands; hands which couldn't help him in his time of need. He pinched the tip of one gloved finger on his left hand and pulled until the leather slipped off of his pail fingers. His nails were so thing and his fingerprints were wrinkled from the sweated that accumulate inside the leather. The hairs on his knuckle laid flat against his white skin and his fingers almost seemed boney. Trowa stared for a long while trying to remember how long it had been since he had taken a good look at his hands. He frowned as he turned his hand around so that he was looking at his palm. The whole inside of his hand was shriveled and liquid paper white; they had not seen the sun light in almost a decade. Trowa's eyes traced to length of his hand down to were it met his wrist. There the skin had areas of discoloration. His wrist showed some unevenness along the surface in the form of deep scars.

Trowa frowned even more, his tears welling in his eyes. He held the bare hand to his chest with the other which was still covered. The tears streamed down his cheeks.

Why, he thought. Why did this happen to him? He didn't do anything to deserve this punishment. Until that day when he went to the doctor's, he had only heard news reports about child molesters on T.V. He never thought it would happen to him. It was one of those one in a million things so then how had he become the victim of a sexual predator? Why did this man have to take his innocence when he was still so young and naïve? He was only thirteen.

Trowa could remember every moment of it as if it had taken place that very day. He could feel those rough hands desecrating him, that cold grin, the torturous pain. Trowa sobbed and gritted his teeth. How could anyone be so heartless, so cruel?

"…Why did you… Why did you have to do this to me?" he whimpered. "Why did you have to fuck everything up?"

_/When the whole ordeal was over, Trowa sat slumped on the floor in front of the examination table, crying and trembling. He was still without his shirt and his pants were still on but had been lowered from his waist to his thighs. The doctor was standing over him readjusting his own clothes. Trowa could not look at him, his face burned with shame. Suddenly he heard the man speak._

"_Trowa, I'm going to make this very clear. If you tell anyone about this, I will find you and you will pay. Do you understand?"_

_For a moment Trowa did not answer. The man would not accept this and knelt down beside him. Taking Trowa's chin in his hand, he forced the boy to look at him. Trowa cringed. _

"_Did you hear me?" The man growled._

_Trowa hesitated and then nodded fanatically, "I…I wo…I won't tell," he stuttered between choked sobs. _

_The man released his chin and Trowa let his face sink in painful sorrow._

"_Good" The man said with malice in his tone. He held out his hand to the boy saying, "Why don't we get you up off the floor and we'll just forget any of this ever happened."_

_Trowa reached a shaky hand to his attacker as he was help up from the floor. He pulled his pants back over his waist and put his shirt back on. He took a long moment to dry his eyes; he had the most difficult time stopping his tears from flowing. Finally, they did stop and Trowa made certain he wiped the wetness away completely with his sleeve. He stood but did not face the other man knowing that if he did he would most certainly begin to cry all over again. He began to leave the room alone and heard the doctor say "Remember Trowa."_

_The boy lowered his head and nodded. He felt like crying again but quickly pulled himself together. He knew his mother was sitting in the waiting room and he didn't want her to see that he was upset. Trowa wasn't really afraid the doctor would punish him if he told; he was more ashamed than anything. Ashamed and embarrassed. He definitely couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell anyone. They wouldn't understand, he thought. He soon came to the conclusion that it would be better if he just kept this a secret and pretended it never happened. That way he wouldn't have to feel so miserably ashamed. If he just forgot it, everything would soon go back to the way it use to be. _

_Trowa took a deep breath as he entered the waiting room. His mother looked up as he approached her. She smiled and asked, "How did it go honey?"_

_Trowa's heart stopped for a moment as he was slightly taken a back by the question. Fine, it went fine, his mind urged._

"_Fine," Trowa forced himself to say. He smiled, just slightly not wanting his mother to know how upset he was. His mother smile back and stood up. They walked out to the car together, Trowa slightly slower than his mother. He was looking at the side walk. He couldn't believe he had just smile to his mother after what had happened to him. Trowa sat down in the passenger seat and buckled up. The whole way home he sat staring out the window and he realized he had just lied to his mother. It wasn't just a little fib either; he had lied about a very serious matter. Thinking about it made him feel so… remorseful._

_Once home he went straight for his bedroom. He closed the door. Quickly he pealed off all of his clothes and got into his bed. He curled up into a fetal position. His lips trembled and his chin tightened. He tried desperately but he couldn't stop the tears from spilling forth. Now that he was safe and alone, he could unleash all the pain and anger that had built inside him. He cried loudly into his empty room. He did not hold back. Why should he? He needed this. He needed to let these awful feelings out. He cried for hours until his throat was raw and his eyes would no longer produce tears. When his sister came to tell him it was dinner time he lied again telling her he was not hungry. In truth he was famished but he did not want to be around his family that night._

Trowa continued sobbing. His throat was raw within seconds. He held on tightly to his bare hand and wailed painfully, his voice cracking every so often.

Andy could hear his cousin's loud sobbing and looked shocked. He approached the door once more, pounding as hard as he could. "Trowa! Trowa, open the door! Let me in!" he screamed, terrified. When Trowa did not open his door the boy panicked and stood back once more. Now _he_ was about to cry. He considered calling for Quatre but he was sure the genie would only respond to Trowa's voice.

Trowa coughed harshly because his throat was now dry and cracked. He stood up staggering forward a few feet and then removed his shirt. He threw it across the room furiously and grabbed at his bangs with both hands. He growled viciously and angrily and he dropped to the carpet once more. He screamed himself into another violent fit of coughing before his stomach once again began to churn. His saliva dribbled from his cracked, mauve lips, and trickled off of his chin. When he was able to stop his hacking and coughing he struggled to make his way to his bathroom. He desperately needed to puke.

Trowa retched his guts out but not much came up. He hadn't eaten anything since the day before after all. He had rushed out of the house so quickly he had no time for breakfast and since there was not much of his dinner left in his system very little of it came back up. It was mostly the stuff he usually hacked up; stomach acid. But this time there was the taste of something that had never appeared in his previous fits of nausea. Not that it was new to him; it was the taste of blood.

The ordeal left him trembling and pale. His face, covered in sweat and tears, appeared sickly and yellow. He weakly tugged the handle on the toilet, flushing it all down before he leaned his back against the wall and panted for air. He raised two fingers to his mouth, touching the warm red substance that dripped down his face. Taking a look at it he could see what he had tasted moments ago. His esophagus was bleeding from all the screaming and puking. Trowa's brow furrowed as he looked at his blood despondently. He swallowed the metallic tasting substance down. He stared at the tiled floor for a moment before his raspy voice whispered softly, "Quatre."

At the theatre, just as the movie was about to end, Quatre's ear twitched to a barely notable voice calling his name. "Trowa," he mumbles before slowly evaporating into purple smoke and drifting swiftly through the air. Quatre traveled unnoticed by the people in the theatre and breezed between pedestrians on the street as he drifted toward home. Andy was still waiting outside his cousin's door, wondering what to do as the purple mist began to seep in from under the front door. The mist solidified into Quatre's humanoid form and he stood in the living room looking up at the boy standing at the top of the stairs.

"Andy?"

Andy turned to see the blonde genie that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Andy nearly cried tears of joy, hope building inside him. Quatre would make Trowa come to his senses, he thought. He rushed down to Quatre and explained what had happened.

"There's something wrong with Trowa," he said, "He was acting strange when we left the doctor's and when we got home he locked himself in his room and started crying."

"Crying?" Quatre repeated.

"Yeah, and he's ignoring me but I don't know why. I don't think I did anything wrong."

Quatre nodded conveying his understanding that this was a delicate situation. "Master Andy? Why don't you watch T.V. for a few minutes while I talk to Master Trowa?"

Andy hesitated at first but then nodded and went to sit on the couch. Quatre levitated to the top of the stairs stepping down silently in front of Trowa's bedroom door. Holding his hand, palm down, over the door handle, Quatre focused on the lock. Within seconds there was a click and the deadbolt gave way. The door creaked open slightly and he peered cautiously at the space within. He saw no sign of Trowa at first, stepping in and looking around. When he failed to see or hear his master he resorted to calling out.

"Master Trowa? Are you in hear?"

Almost instantly he was answered. "Lock the door," said a raspy, weak voice. Quatre looked down on the bathroom floor to see his trembling master.

Quatre covered his mouth in shock as he took in the dreadful sight. He had never seen the man look so upset. He was utterly frightened by the paleness of his skin and the blood on his mouth; nonetheless, he did as his master commanded and locked the door again. He then returned to the bathroom and knelt down on the floor next to the sickly man.

"…Thank you. I don't want Andy to see me like this."

"What happened to upset you so much?" Quatre asked as he took some tissues and handed them to Trowa.

Trowa took the tissues and dabbed the tears out of his eyes and the blood off his chin but did not look at the other male. "Can you keep a secret?" He asked Quatre.

The genie nodded.

With the tissue bunched up in his hands, Trowa swallowed once more trying to clear his mouth of the sour taste. "I freaked out today, at the clinic. The doctor I had asked for was ill and they set me up with this male doctor who was filling in for her… I know he meant no harm. He was just doing his job but I still got scared. I asked for a female doctor because of that; male doctors scare me."

"Is this some kind of phobia?" Quatre asked.

Trowa shook his head, "Not like that. It's because when I was thirteen…" He paused. Quatre listened intently for him to continue. Trowa choked as the tears returned. "When I was thirteen I was… I was raped by a male doctor." He barely managed to whimper the last part of his sentence before burying his face in his hands to hide his humiliation.

Quatre's mouth hung slightly agape, his brows lowered. He reached out but hesitated to touch the man. What good would his touch be in a situation like this? He reached out anyway. He set his hand on Trowa's shoulder and whispered, "Master Trowa. I'm sorry."

Trowa peered up at the blonde who couldn't look more sincere. Quatre moved his hand to fix Trowa's long bangs. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

Trowa was quiet for a moment then he whispered, "Hold me."

Quatre was taken a back. Trowa wanted him, little Quatre to hold him, a full grown man? He was more expecting something like, "Hand me some pills", or "Bring me a beer", or maybe "Leave me alone" but not "Hold me".

Quatre gave Trowa one of those cheerless smiles as he wrapped his arms around him. Trowa leaned over and rested his head in the crook of the genie's neck, his bangs brushing against the underside of his chin. Quatre blushed, slightly bashful about the situation. Here he sat with a rather attractive adult male leaning into him and he was holding him. He couldn't help feeling slightly lucky. As he looked down, he noticed that Trowa's left hand was uncovered. Upon closer inspection, he saw the stripes of discoloration on his wrists.

"It's understandable," Quatre stated flatly.

Trowa looked at him.

"The gloves I mean," he finished.

Trowa hastily brought his hand to his shirt to hide the marks once more.

"Forgive me Master, for prying; but sometimes it helps to talk to someone about things like this. To seek solace."

Trowa trembled slightly and Quatre, realizing that he was meddling too much. He held Trowa tighter and said, "No, I'm sorry. This is not my business Master. I should not be so nosy."

Trowa shook his head and whimpered "No. You're right." He paused as he lifted his head from Quatre's shoulder. "But I should have told somebody years ago. I should have told my mother the day it happened but I was too ashamed. Instead I told no one. I kept all this pain bottled up; it was bound surface again sooner or later."

Quatre sat holding the man silently, just listening.

"Nobody ever found out that I tried to kill myself. They never knew about my scars. Mom just thought I had obsessive compulsive disorder and I let her believe it. She thought I was keeping out the filth by wearing gloves but I never told her the truth." Trowa sobbed. "I wanted to but I was afraid and now it's too late. It wouldn't do any good to tell her now. Not to mention that because I kept my mouth shut, that guy is probably still out there and posing as a Pediatrician to lure kids into his deception. That's what upsets me the most."

Quatre shut his eyes in despair over this new understanding of his dejected master. He rocked him soothingly.

"You know, you could still tell the police, you don't have to tell your mother if you're afraid but if you told the proper authorities you could remain anonymous and still have him arrested and sent to prison."

"No, it's too late. Besides, it's been years, they may have already caught him."

"But you can't be sure of that, can you?"

Trowa hesitated then shook his head.

Quatre lowered his face to look at his master.

"Trowa," he whispered. "It's never too late. It's understandable that you kept this a secret for so long, and the police will recognize that. And even if he is already in jail you should still confess because it's more evidence against him. Besides, what if he is still out there and no body knows what he's done yet. It might be hard to live day to day knowing that you kept your mouth shut and as a result he is still molesting his patients. And what if he did have other victims? Do you think they would have any easier of a time confessing?"

Trowa said nothing.

"You have a responsibility", Quatre pointed out.

Again, Trowa was momentarily silent.

"I know", he mumbled after a few seconds. He suddenly got up and walked out of the bathroom. Quatre stayed put for a moment just watching the other male wander toward his bed. He watched as Trowa swallowed uncomfortably then reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He pulled out a ten-dollar-bill then turned back to the genie.

"Quatre?" He asked softly.

Quatre finally got up and levitated toward the man.

Trowa handed him the money then told him, "I told Andy I'd take him to McDonald's but I'm not really in the mood for it anymore. Would you mind taking him for me?"

Quatre nodded dutifully putting the money in his pocket. Before he left the room he saw Trowa moving toward the phone. He smiled only minutely, slightly satisfied that he had gotten through to him about calling the police. At least it seemed that way. He didn't stick around to see who Trowa was calling. Instead he met up with the boy in the living room and the two headed off to McDonalds together. Meanwhile, Trowa was having difficulties mustering up the courage to make the call. He finally lifted the receiver and dialed 0. He only wanted to speak with the police but since it wasn't an emergency; he didn't want to dial 911. When the operator picked up he asked, "Can you put me through to the Los Angeles Police?"

The operator provided him with the trademark "One moment please" then there was a click and a dial tone. He waited for a few seconds. He was starting to feel tension again. The lump was rising in his throat when he heard "Los Angeles Police Department".

Trowa froze for a minute then heard "Hello?" He snapped back saying, "Sorry, My name is Trowa Barton. I need to file a report on a suspect."


	9. Sick in Bed

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: PG

Chapter Nine

Sick in Bed

Within the next few weeks, Trowa had gathered himself enough to give his confession at the police station. It went well but the process was not without tears. The whole session was recorded on a cassette tape to keep as evidence. Unfortunately, Trowa learned that the pediatrician had not been apprehended after so many years. Needless to say, he still didn't have peace of mind. He still felt uncomfortable removing his gloves, in public at least. Quatre gave him the reassurance that he didn't need to cover his hands when he was alone. At least it got him to remove them before going to sleep.

As the days passed, Trowa opened up to the genie more and more about the sensitive subject. He usually discussed it just before falling to sleep. Already tucked into the covers of his warm, cozy bed, he confided in Quatre who sat on the edge of the bed next to him. Slowly, the man began to feel relieved to rid himself of the unbearable weight on his shoulders, and Quatre never spoke a word of any of it, especially not to Andy.

They both kept the boy in the dark about the situation. They felt it was better that he not understand any of it. As time passed, he had forgotten all about Trowa's little outburst and things were close to being normal again.

By this time it was mid-April and the weather had begun to warm up. Good news for those who were looking forward to spring, bad news for Andy, however. This was the time of year when his allergies were the worst. The transition from cold and wet to warm and sunny meant the mold spores that had settled in the widow sills and in dark corners finally had a good opportunity to grow and release yet more spores into the air. Aware of this, Trowa put forth his best effort and sprayed these areas thoroughly with bleach to kill the pesky fungus. He could do nothing to stop flowers from blooming and spreading pollen though. More and more often, Andy was coming home from school and nearly sneezing the hair off his head. One Monday morning, the boy did not wake up the first time Trowa yelled "Up 'n at 'em!" Or the second or the third. The fourth time, Trowa finally approached the boy's bed and shook him.

"Andy. You're going to be late for school. You should have been up fifteen minutes ago now c'mon."

The boy only groaned and managed a thick, gurgled cough.

Trowa sighed in frustration. "Andy, Quatre made you breakfast twenty minutes ago. If you don't wake up now it won't be worth eating. It will be too cold."

"Trowa, I think I'm sick," the boy rasped.

He finally rolled onto his back so he could look at his cousin. In an instant Trowa could see that the boy was not well. His face appeared pale and yellowish. The dark rings under each of his eyes could not be from lack of sleep and his lips were not their usual shade of pink. His whole face was covered with a cold sweat and Trowa could already smell the boy's faintly sour breath.

He felt Andy's forehead as confirmation and could not deny that the boy was truly sick. Quatre appeared in the doorway in a blue apron with ruffled trimmings. He was curious as to what was taking so long. He cleared his throat softly drawing Trowa's attention.

"Is everything alright?" He asked.

Trowa looked back at the boy in the bed.

"Yeah, Andy just caught something. That's all."

Quatre entered cautiously to peer over Trowa's shoulder at the boy.

"Oh dear. He sure did. Well, why don't we take his temperature then we can call a doctor," said the genie before he left to get thermometer.

"Sure," Trowa answered over his shoulder.

Andy groaned uncomfortably then coughed again. Trowa stroked back his blonde bangs in an almost motherly way and Andy smiled slightly. Trowa smiled back, reassuring him that he and Quatre were goin to take good care of him.

"You lucky boy, I guess you get to miss school today ha?"

Andy nodded feebly.

Quatre appeared moments later with thermometer in hand. He approached the bed holding it out and told him "Say ah…"

Andy opened his mouth and said "Aaa-ow! My throat hurts." He tried again but this time without the "ah." His breath was horrid but Quatre didn't say anything as he planted the tip of the thermometer underneath Andy's tongue. Before Andy could shut his mouth, one of the spit glands at the base of his tongue shot a stream of saliva on the genie's cheek.

"Pardon my gleek," He giggled softly.

"One could speculate that your so called 'gleek' was intentional," Quatre teased wiping his cheek with the apron.

"Andy hold still or the thermometer won't read right," Trowa cautioned.

Andy calmed himself while Trowa looked at his watch waiting for the time to be up. After that he pulled the thermometer out of Andy's mouth and looked at it. He got a slightly surprised look on his face and then announced, "Ninety nine point three."

"Well I guess you're stuck here today Young Master. Don't worry though, I'll take good care of you while Master Trowa is at work," Quatre smiled.

Trowa looked over at him a bit stunned. "Quatre you told me you me you wanted to go to the La Brea Tar Pit Museum, to see the new Condor exhibit."

"Hm? Oh that. It can wait. Besides somebody should stay home to look after Master Andy."

"Are you sure? I can call Treiz and ask him for the day off."

"No don't be ridiculous. It's your responsibility as an employee to be at work when you say you will be; besides, there is no need for you to make a sacrifice as long as I'm here."

"I just don't want to depend on you too much is all."

Quatre chuckled. "Master Trowa, that's what genies are for."

Trowa stood up. "Alright, if you say so. I'll stop by the drugstore on my way home and pick up some cough syrup then." He patted his cousin on the chest. "See ya later kiddo. I hope you feel better."

Andy smiled as he watched Trowa and the genie leave the room. Quatre followed Trowa to the front door.

"I'm worried. It looks like pneumonia," Trowa mumbled. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

Quatre shook his head slightly. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll make him some soup, give him 7-UP, and make sure he stays in be. I can't call the doctor though, I think you have to do that since you're his legal guardian."

"Oh yeah, I should do that before I leave," Trowa said as he made his way toward the phone.

While he was doing that, Quatre picked up Andy's untouched breakfast and took it up the stairs the boy's room. He entered with a smile saying. "I don't know if you feel like eating right now Master Andy but I think your breakfast is still warm if you want to give it a try."

Andy shook his head, "I'm sorry Quatre. I don't want to hurt your feelings but I don't feel much like eating right now."

Quatre set the plate down on the night stand and knelt down next to the boy in bed. "It's okay, I just didn't want to make assumptions."

Trowa shouted towards the top of the stairs, "Quatre? Andy? I'm off to work. Be home in a few hours… Oh, and Andy? I made you a doctor's appointment for three o'clock this afternoon okay?"

"Uh-huh," Andy groaned back.

Quatre went to look over the top of the stair rail and shout back, "Have a nice day Master Trowa."

After Trowa left, Quatre returned and picked up the plate from the night stand. "You probably want to go back to sleep so I'll leave you be. If you need anything, just tell me. I'm going to stay home so I'm here if you need me."

"Okay," Andy gurgled before snuggling under the covers for a little early morning siesta. He smiled though he felt awful. At least he got to relax and miss school he thought.

Quatre walked slowly down towards the end of the hall and paused. He levitated and disappeared in the ceiling. He rose up through the attic floor then drifted past cob webs and a rodent skeleton. No one had been up there in ages but Quatre didn't mind the filth. He was just happy to have his own little quiet space where he could go and be alone. He asked permission of course, but Trowa didn't mind. Even so, Quatre was the only one who entered the attic so he had the whole area all to himself. A quiet little retreat.

In the farthest corner, he settled himself onto an old, dusty afghan. He sat with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms draped over them. Beside him sat an old picture of him and Doctor Santiago. He picked up the photo and looked at it smiling softly. He cherished this picture more than any other. It was taken when he and his former master traveled to the Himalayas to see Mt. Everest. Both were bundled up in thick warm coats with furred trimming and heavy padded trousers and black boots. A crew member took the picture of them as they stood next to one another. Antonio stood with his hand placed on Quatre's shoulder as the genie beamed the camera his best smile. Oh what fun they had together, traveling the world and seeing rare sights. They visited the Valley of the Kings in Egypt, the Great Rift in Kenya, the Great Wall of China, the Aztec and Mayan ruins in Mexico, the cave paintings located in Australia, the Bed of Whales in the Sahara Desert, and the list goes on for days. Quatre had seen more than half of the world in only a few years and loved every moment of it.

Antonio was uninterested when it came to wishing but Quatre didn't mind that at all. He was enjoying himself immensely and nearly forgot all about his servant duties. Quatre could recall one particular day when his former master was packing his suitcase for his trip to the Amazon. It had been a very important and special day in his immortal life…

_Quatre entered his master's room gingerly and waited while the doctor folder his clothing neatly and precisely. When he looked up he saw the slight figure standing in the doorway and smiled warmly._

"_Hello there Quatre."_

_Quatre bowed before the man, "Hello Master. Packing for your trip?"_

"_Sure am."_

"_S-so I guess I won't see you again for another month," Quatre replied, trying to hide his disappointment. Being the social type, the genie was not looking forward to spending a month alone with nothing to do._

"_What ever do you mean? Aren't you coming along? I already bought two plane tickets."_

"_Oh. Master I wish I could but, I can't leave this house unless you put me back inside the lamp. And that really wouldn't be the same. You could always rub the lamp again and I would come back out but I doubt very much that you would want to do that every time you travel from one place to another, not to mention that it completely defeats the purpose of a second plane ticket. I do apologize Master. I hope you can get a refund."_

"_Hm… I see. You can't leave one spot once you've been freed from the lamp unless you are returned to the lamp." The doctor paused, thinking. "That would be a lot of lamp rubbing…But I can't get my money back at this point…"_

_Quatre lowered his head. "I'm sorry Master. I hope it wasn't too expensive. Perhaps one of your other servants could accompany you on your trip. I'd hate to think that your money went to waste because of me."_

"_I've got it!" Antonio announced._

_Quatre looked at him expectantly._

"_I'll make a wish to bend the rules a tad."_

"_Bend the rules, Master?"_

"_Are you ready? I wish you could travel along with me in person."_

_Quatre stood for a moment, slightly shocked. Then he smiled. "Do you mean that Master?"_

_Antonio approached the genie giving him a firm slap on the back. Quatre winced and stepped forward to prevent himself from falling on his face. "Of course dear boy. So how 'bout it? Will you come with me to Brazil? I may need assistance while wrestling with Anacondas and Caiman."_

"_Anacondas and Caiman! We're going to do battle with hundred foot boas and blood thirsty, crocodilians?"_

"_Oh come now. I was only joking. We won't actually be wrestling with them. We're going to be documenting them, which involves handling them a bit. And Anacondas rarely reach over thirty feet in length. Besides we might get to see some rainforest primates and Capybaras as well."_

"_Capy-whata?"_

"_Capybaras are large rodents that wallow in the Amazon River. They're actually closely related to Guinea Pigs and Anacondas find them delectable."_

_At first Quatre was uncertain. Was he really up to such an adventure? Then he remembered that his master had bought him a nonrefundable plane ticket. No doubt it was expensive. He would feel so awful if he let that money go to waist. He had no choice. He smile genially at his master and said "Count me in."_

_That response made the doctor very happy and the next day, the two of them left for South America and the Amazon Rainforest. Though Quatre was not completely for the idea of handling large, dangerous reptiles, he soon found himself enjoying this little vacation with his master. He learned a lot about these exotic animals and there habitat. He learned that Anacondas can be silky smooth to the touch, and that caiman aren't really as ferocious as he thought. He even got to see a few animals the doctor forgot to mention like Tapirs, Fresh Water Dolphins, and Jaguars. He learned so much and had a wonderful time doing so. And all because of his kind master's wish._

A single tear escaped one of his large sapphire eyes and he immediately wiped it away. He sniffled and let out a small sob. "I better pull myself together. I've been quite the sap lately."

He looked at the photo once more before setting it back down. "There's no need for me to cry is there Master Antonio. I know you are doing well at God's side… I guess I just miss you still."

He looked down at the spot of light on the floor that was the result of the sun peaking in through the attic window. It had moved about a foot and a half in the opposite direction. It made Quatre realize he had been daydreaming for too long. He got up with the decision to check up on Andy.

He sunk through the attic floor landing himself back in the second story hall way. He peered into Trowa's bedroom. The alarm clock on his night stand read 11:06 AM.

"Goodness," he said slightly surprised. "Time sure flies when you're daydreaming. I better see if Andy wants lunch."

Quatre peeked into the boy's room, slightly shocked by what he saw. Andy sat up in bed but was leaning toward his open bedside window. His breathing was labored as he pressed the side of his face to the mesh screen. Quatre approached cautiously.

"Master?"

Andy whimpered then coughed against the screen. "I can't go back to sleep. I keep feeling hot then cold and I can't stop sweating." He finally lifted his face and turned toward the genie. He inhaled with a shaky wheeze. "My sides ache like I laughed too hard. It's hard to breath."

Quatre sat down on the edge of the bed. "May I listen to your lungs?" he asked.

The boy gave a quick nod. Quatre leaned over, placing his ear to Andy's back. He heard labored rumbles and amplified wheezing as Andy struggled to breath. Something thick and wet gurgled around in the hallow area of each lung. Then came a violent burst as Andy coughed trying to clear out his inflamed lungs and air ways. Quatre drew back and gave him a brief back rub.

"Aw, you don't sound good at all."

"I feel like crap, I mean crud," Andy groaned. "I forgot, Trowa told me not to say that."

"Are you hungry for lunch? Or do you perhaps want some 7-UP?"

Andy shook his head. "Maybe a little later."

Quatre looked at the boy for a long while wondering what he could do to make him more comfortable. His thoughts were interrupted by more coughing and a groaning. A gulp followed soon after.

"Master Andy, you really shouldn't swallow that. It'll just end up back in your lungs."

"Well what should I do with it then?"

Quatre stood up from the bed. "I'll get you something to get rid of it in," he said before leaving the room.

Andy watched the doorway even after the genie had left. He seemed to be having delayed reaction due to his poor state of health. He suddenly shoved the bed sheets aside and groaned again. Why was it was so hot? he thought to himself. He turned back toward the window hoping even the slightest breeze would enter his room and cool his scalding face, especially his forehead. Unfortunately, there was absolutely no sign of a cooling draft whatsoever. Andy slumped against the wall and sighed in disappointment.

Quatre returned momentarily with a Tupperware bowl and set it on the dresser.

"Okay," he said and Andy looked up. "If you need to expel any respiratory secretions, do so in this bowl."

"…What?"

"If you need to spit out some phlegm, do it in here," Quatre reiterated as he pointed to the bowl.

"Oh. Okay," Andy grumbled. "Can we turn on the air?"

"But it's only sixty eight degrees in here. Beside the cold might make your condition worse."

"Hmph!" the boy grunted in frustration. He knew Quatre was right but he was burning up. He could almost feel heat radiating from his sweat coated skin.

"I'm sorry Master Andy but I'm only trying to look out for your wellbeing."

"I know. I'm just so uncomfortable. Too bad I can't remove my skin to cool off. It feels so hot."

"You should at least try resting. It will do you good. Don't worry. You'll forget that you're hot if you take a nap."

"I'll try," Andy mumbled before lying down on top of the covers and closing his eyes. He really was tired but it was hard to sleep because of the hot and cold spells and his constant sweating. Finally, he did drift off and Quatre quietly left the room. He almost stepped on Alley's tail as he turned the corner into the hallway. He gasped slightly at the sudden appearance of the cat then sighed in relief that he had just barely avoided a noisy situation.

"Alley. Must you always be under foot?" He hissed in annoyance.

The cat stood up holding its tail in the air and then seemed to strut off proudly. The cat, in fact, was still a kitten but had grown quite a bit since they had taken him in. It was evident that the animal had settled in well but it seemed to have forgotten that if it weren't for good old Quatre, it would still be roaming alley ways and rummaging through the trash looking for food. The feline displayed an attitude that was reminiscent of arrogance. Almost like a spoiled child.

Quatre watched the haughty feline as it turned to him and swayed the tip of its grey tipped tail and meowed. He shook his head in exasperation. "I suppose I have pampered you too much. You've become a bit of a brat." He bent down to scratch the kitten's lower back. Alley arched his back and purred in appreciation. "Just remember who is in charge of whom. I only answer to Master Trowa and Master Andy."

Quatre could see the clock at Trowa's bedside once again. 12:47 PM it read.

"I still have some time before Master Trowa returns to take Master Andy to the doctors. What should I do?" he mumbled to the hallway. The cat looked at him in a needy way.

"I suppose I could pay attention to you for three hours, eh kitty?"

The cat purred and nuzzled against the genie's knee affectionately. Quatre went to find a mouse made of yarn in Alley's toy basket. It was blue with a pink ribbon tail that had a bell at the end. He held it in his hand as the kitten stared up at it in anticipation. Quatre closed his hand over the toy for a mere second and when he opened his fingers a live mouse was sitting in the palm of his hand. It stood up on it hind legs and stretched toward Quatre's face with whiskers twitching. It jingled like the bell formerly attached to its tail when it moved.

Quatre lowered the mouse to the ground and let it scurry off jingling as it bounded into the kitchen, a captivated kitten following swiftly after it. The mouse grabbed a hold of a dish towel hanging from a cabinet handle and climbed up onto the counter. Ally leaped up in one smooth movement and continued the chase along the kitchen sink, around the microwave, then behind the toaster. The mouse leaped off the counter then scampered off into the living room. Ally was right behind it the whole way until he finally had the pray cornered. The little mouse cowered in terror as the white predator hovered just above. The feline lunged out and grabbed the jingling mouse with its needle sharp teeth. Alley sauntered off. The mouse held between vice-like jaws was made of blue yard and ribbon once more. The bell at the end of the tail clinked noisily as the toy was carried down the hall.

Quatre watched as the feline disappeared and smiled. He had yet again fooled the pretentious kitten. He would find a nice quiet nook and settle in to enjoy his spoils only to find a yarn toy with a bell.


	10. Life and Death

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: This is for anyone who reads my fic. I reposted this chapter because I realized that I made a really stupid spelling error. Next times I right that Trowa is "spaying" the dishes, please tell me 'cause that's just wrong.

Chapter Ten

Life and Death

Work was the same as usual. Trowa first sprayed the dishes, then loaded the dishes, then shoved the dishes into the industrial sized washer. God it was boring and just when he thought he was done, another bus cart would mysteriously appear. Trowa groaned and removed one of the dish-filled tubs from the cart to begin the whole process over again. He filled another rack with dishes before lifting the handle on the washer. He shoved the rack of dirty dishes in, forcing the clean dishes out the other side. He then pulled the handle back down starting the machine yet again.

It was after lunch at this point, about one o'clock, and there weren't many residents left in the dinning room. Only the stragglers stayed behind now. Unfortunately, a lack of residents did not mean a lack of dishes. It was a grueling task but it paid more than a server's position. Trowa had gone into one of his zones again in order to block out his boring surroundings. He would be off at two thirty and that would give him just enough time to pick up Andy for his doctor's appointment.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about his cousin being molested by the doctor since he was the boy's legal guardian and could be present during the visit. It was Andy's choice of course but Trowa had never had a problem convincing Andy to let him come into the doctor's office with him. He would never tell him why all he would say was, "If you don't mind, I'm going to go in with you so I can hear what the doctor has to say also." That usually worked well. This time, though, Trowa was certain he would be able to join his cousin given the circumstances. This was no common cold after all; the boy would probably want someone to be there with him simply because he could barely hold his own head up. In a case like this one, Andy would probable want his cousin there simply for comfort.

"I wonder how he's doing right now," he mumbled to himself.

"Trowa!"

Trowa snapped out of his trance and looked to see the new girl, Heather standing in the doorway to the kitchen looking slightly pale. "Yeah?"

"Trowa, is Treiz in here?" she asked.

"N- no. Why?"

"Is the cook in here?"

"No. I'm the only one here right now. What's the matter?"

She hesitated then looked out into the dinning room at one of the residents sitting next to the window by himself. He was a well known old fellow named Georgey. He was a hundred and five but still had quite a bit of hair and all of his wits about him. Nothing like the folks behind the doors of the memory care unit. Most of them were three sheets to the wind.

Trowa smiled. "Did he rope you into one of his riveting tails of love, marriage, and masturbation again? You can't hold it against him. It's been decades since he's had any action, he's gotta tell somebody about his trysts with some of the thirties' finest broads."

"What? No, Trowa look at him!"

Trowa glanced one more time at the lone old timer. His slumped position did look unusual for Georgey. Trowa stepped out of the kitchen quietly. Something wasn't right. There were a couple old ladies sitting at a six top on the other side of the room a two servers cleaning up dishes at a table not far from them; the only commotion in the dinning room. Trowa continued his way across the room toward the stooped over Georgey, careful not to draw attention to the situation. He knelt down next to the shriveled old man and looked toward the profile of his drooping face. He seemed to have dozed off.

"Georgey?" He asked calmly but not too softly. If the man was asleep he wanted to wake him up carefully. Georgey didn't move at all. His head stayed facing down and his eyes closed. Trowa hesitated then shook his shoulder gently. "Georgey?" he repeated. The man still did not answer.

"Trowa…" Heather whispered shakily.

Trowa felt the man's cheek which was tepid but not warm. He placed his hand in front of his mouth and nose and waited to feel a warm breath of air on his palm. After about a minute, however; it was apparent that the man wasn't breathing. Trowa hesitated once more before placing his index and middle finger against his neck trying to find a pulse. He waited an eternity trying different spots but couldn't feel even the slightest throbbing.

Trowa gave up. He turned away to look toward the girl. He shook his head slightly at her. She placed her hand in front of her mouth. She was saddened and slightly shocked but careful not to make a scene. Trowa backed away from the lifeless Georgey and stood in front of Heather.

"What should we do?" she asked him.

He wasn't quick to respond though. He had to consider the circumstances before drawing any conclusion. He looked across the room at the other two servers and the old ladies at the six top.

"Heather, go to the receptionist and ask her to call two nurses to remove the stragglers from the dinning room then explain to her the situation and have her call 911," He said calmly.

The girl nodded frantically and dashed off toward the front desk. Trowa didn't move for a long time he just stood and stared at the deceased old timer contemplating the situation. It was indeed sad but unfortunately it was part of his job. He was well aware that the residents were people who were on their last legs. Their children dumped them in care facilities to take the burden off themselves, they brought them there to die, they brought them there because they just couldn't be there for them every waking moment, and they put them there because they couldn't stand them, hated them, and just didn't care. There were many reasons why the residents came to live there and some came of their own accord. They came to make friends, they came to rid themselves of their responsibilities, and they came because they had nobody else to turn to. That was Georgey's case. He was an old man who couldn't take care of himself anymore and had absolutely no one else to look after him. But the man was filthy rich, he could afford it.

Trowa felt like he should have seen it coming though. After hearing about Georgey's cancer everyone expected he would keel over within the next few weeks but to their surprise he hung around for the next six months or so. Trowa had heard that Georgey ponyed up seventy thousand dollars for the employee Christmas fund so everyone got a huge bonus in December. It seemed strange that anyone with that kind of money would just donate it but it made since now. Georgey must have known that his time was short and having no wife, no children, and no living relatives, he decided he would give it to the people who took care of him during his last years of life. It all made perfect sense. Why hadn't he realized this before?

Trowa looked over to see two nurses escorting the last two residents out of the dinning room and felt relieved that they wouldn't have to see Georgey get wheeled out on a stretcher. It wasn't long before the faint sound of sirens could be heard in the background. They got louder and louder with each passing moment until they were right outside the front doors. He decided it would probably be better if he backed away from the lifeless Georgey; the paramedics would be in the building soon and he would only be in their way if stayed where he was. He went to lean against the wall outside the kitchen. Heather soon came back and stood next to him. They both watched quietly as three paramedics walked past with the stretcher.

Trowa stood with a vacant stare as he watched. Heather blinked back a few tears. Trowa looked over at her feeling bad. He was no seasoned veteran to this sort of thing but he was well away of the negative aspects of working at a retirement home. Heather, on the other hand, was more or less a rookie. Not to mention that being female, she was much more sensitive in these tender situations. He wanted to be a gentleman and comfort her but was not sure if that was an appropriate thing to do in the workplace. He had work to do anyway. He needed to hurry and finish up so that he could leave in time to take Andy to the doctor's.

With a soft sigh Trowa turned around and went back into the kitchen. Heather looked after him as the door closed behind him. Trowa began to spray off the dishes again when Heather once more appeared next to him.

"You're just gonna go back to work now?" she asked.

He stopped and looked at her for a moment not sure why she had asked that. "What else would I do at work?"

"Trowa, that man just died. Don't you feel even the slightest bit sympathetic?"

"Yeah, it upsets me. I liked Georgey. I can't sit there all day and mourn though."

"You sure don't seem to care very much right now."

"What?"

"You just left and went back to work like nothing even happened."

"Yeah well I have some place I need to be today which means I have to leave on time. I can't stay in there and be sad, I have work to do. I'm upset but that's no excuse for me to stop doing my job."

"So washing the dishes is more important than Georgey, is that what you're saying."

"Georgey is dead," Trowa snapped.

There was silence for a moment as they stared at one another. Trowa took the sprayer and began rinsing a plate. "There's nothing we can do about that," he finished.

"Have you seen people die here before Trowa?" Heather asked softly.

Trowa paused then said, "Yeah, once." He sent more dishes through the machine. "Her name was Mary. She was really sweet. She was legally blind and needed somebody to escort her to the salad bar at lunch. She always ordered peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches. I was fond of her 'cause she always told me how much she appreciated my work. She said that to everybody. Just little thing like that that kinda make you feel good about yourself and brighten you day. Everybody loved her here so we were all really sad when she passed away. But that didn't stop us from working. We need to keep working because we still have other residents to care for. Their quality of life depends on us. The dead don't need to be cared for they're dead."

Heather lowered her head. "So we just go on with our lives then?"

"Yup. It's all part of our job unfortunately."

There was silence again and this time the conversation was ended. Heather wandered off somewhere, she probably went to watch the paramedics. Trowa finished up at two fifteen and decided to leave early. He wanted to get home as soon as he possibly could to take Andy to his doctor's appointment. Andy would be sad when he heard what happened to old Georgey. The two had only met once but the boy clung to the old man like glue and loved to hear him go on about the dust bowl, the great depression, and presidential scandals of the early nineteen hundreds. The man was after all a walking history book only a hundred times more entertaining as history books aren't biased and definitely don't exhibit information of sexy dancing girls and old cathouses, nor do they speak for themselves. Georgey would be missed dreadfully.

Trowa pulled up in front of the house and turned the car off. He had expected to see his cousin on the couch watching cartoon when he entered the house but instead saw nobody. "Andy? Quatre?"

Suddenly the slight genie appeared from behind Andy's bedroom door. He said nothing only motioned with his hand for the man to come upstairs. Trowa did so and when he reached the landing he asked softly, "How is he?"

"He's sleeping," replied the genie.

Trowa peaked into the room to see the boy sprawled out on his stomach on top of the covers.

"Is he any better than this morning?" Trowa whispered.

Quatre shook his head and frowned. Trowa groaned on behalf of the sleeping boy. The two of them entered the room, walking toward the bed. Trowa knelt down and gently wiped away the sweat from Andy's brow. The boy blinked a couple of times as he regained consciousness.

"Andy, are you ready to go to the doctor's?" Trowa asked.

The boy nodded and whimpered something similar to "Uh-huh." He sat up slowly and groaned. His head drooped and his shoulders slumped forward. "I'm dizzy," he rasped.

Trowa sat down on the edge of the bed and put one hand against his back and the other under his knees then lifted him up. Andy relaxed setting his head against his cousin's shoulder as he was carried out of his room and down the stairs. When they reached the driveway Quatre opened the car door so Trowa could lay Andy along the back seat.

Quatre watched while the car backed onto the street and drove away. For a moment, he stood, just watching then he closed his eyes and lowered his head as if praying for the recovery of his young master.

Trowa drove at a fast pace but not with reckless ambition. With Andy unbuckled and strewed out across the back seat, he had to be extremely careful. Being so cautious and alert during the drive made him sigh with relief when he finally reached the hospital parking lot. Andy sat up with a faint groan and looked out the window. Trowa had already gotten out and opened the back door for him. It seemed to happen in the blink of an eye; in fact the whole drive seemed like a perplexing blur to the debilitated boy. Suddenly the back door was open and his cousin was staring down at him.

"Andy? Can you walk? Do I need to carry you again?"

The boy shook his head. "No. It's okay. I'm not dizzy anymore."

They walked in together, apparently. Unfortunately that too was a blur. Andy's hazy mind skipped the waiting process all together and the next thing he knew he was sitting on a sterile table with his cousin sitting in a chair next to him. The boy wasn't wearing his shirt. Had the nurse already weighed him and taken his blood pressure? Was he even awake during all this? Maybe he had dozed off. In any case, he felt like he was about to dose off for real when he heard the office door open then shut again. When he looked up again he saw the doctor and Trowa shaking hands.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Murch. You must be Trowa."

"Yes, and this is my cousin, Andy."

The doctor turned his attention to the pale boy.

"Ah yes, Andy. Looks as though we're feeling a little under the weather today. What seems to be the problem?"

Andy stared blankly at the man in the white lab coat as if he had forgotten his voice.

"He woke up feeling really sick this morning. He complained of being dizzy, having aches and pains, sore throat, and he's also been wheezing and coughing a lot," Trowa answered for him.

"Ah. That sounds like you may have an upper respiratory infection. Do you mind if I take a listen?"

Again, Andy didn't answer, he could barely keep his head up. He felt like he had been sedated; he was feeling extremely lethargic and tired. He also felt dizzy again. As the doctor reached out with his stethoscope Andy simply fell sideways on the table and passed out. For a few brief moments he could hear panicked shuffles and his cousin's voice urgently calling out to him. His eyelids fluttered a couple times and he could vaguely see Trowa looking down at him shouting. Why did he sound so far away? His eyes closed once again and he listened to the two men talking for only a few more seconds.

"Andy!"

"Mr. Barton, please stand back."

"Oh God. Don't do this to me Andy!"

"Mr. Ba….Please…...alm."

"…t's my cousin!"

Andy wanted so badly to say "Trowa, it's okay. Don't worry," But he couldn't. The voices got quieter and quieter until finally they could be heard no longer. Andy completely blacked out then. He couldn't hear, feel or understand anything any longer and he thought, Is this death?

After what seemed like only a few seconds Andy's eyes reopened. He was laying on his back staring up at a ceiling. He moved his head to from side to side trying to figure out where he was. To his left was a floral curtain held to a rod by metal rings. To his right was a table, a wall, and a small window. Andy groaned as he pulled himself up. He stopped suddenly; something was weighing down his leg. He looked down to see Trowa leaning over the bed with his head in his arms on top of Andy's knee. It took him a moment to remember what had happened. That's right, he had passed out and now he was in a hospital bed recovering. At least he felt better than he had when he passed out.

"Master Andy," came a soft voice.

The boy looked to the far end of the small area to see Quatre getting out of a wooden chair and coming over to his side.

"Thank goodness, we were so worried about you. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, okay I guess."

The genie looked away frowning. "This is my fault. Because I didn't feed you anything, you had no energy and fainted."

"It's not your fault. You asked me and I told you I wasn't hungry."

"I know but…"

"Quatre, don't worry about it, okay? I'm fine now. There's nothing to worry about."

"Mmmmph…"

Andy looked down and saw Trowa stir and lift his head. "Andy?"

The boy smiled as Trowa looked up at him. Trowa stood up and hugged his cousin tight. "You scared the hell out of me," Trowa almost whimpered.

"I'm sorry," Andy said softly.

Trowa let go. "How do you feel?"

"Okay."

"The doctor said you had pneumonia again and treated you with antibiotics. You should be all better in about a week and since you're awake we can go home today."

"That's great ha Quat—re?" Andy said as he looked over to Quatre, surprised to find that he had disappeared. He turned back to Trowa. "Where'd he go? He was here a minute ago."

Trowa frowned. "Quatre's not here Andy."

"He was just before you woke up."

"Sometimes when you come out of a fainting spell, your mind plays trick on you."

Andy looked once more at the spot where Quatre was standing. He pouted. "I guess it was just my imagination."

Trowa looked down. He glared at the bed then looked back at Andy and smiled.

The automatic doors to the hospital lobby slid open as a slight blonde male walked out into the parking lot, his head held low. He looked into the window at the far end of the building and saw Trowa sitting with Andy talking and smiling. He turned away feeling tears swell in his large blue eyes. A small drop of salt water slipped out and splashed on the pavement.

"_Mr. Barton, it seems a lack of sustenance is the reason Andy fainted. We treated his pneumonia but he will need to eat soon after he regains consciousness."_

"_Thank you," Trowa whispered._

_The doctor left the room. Trowa entered behind the curtain to where Quatre was sitting next to Andy._

"_Quatre, didn't you feed Andy?"_

"_No, I tried to but…"_

_Trowa smiled wryly and shook his head at the situation. "Great. That's just great. I trust you to take care of him and this is what happens. I knew I should have stayed home from work and taken care of him myself."_

"_Master, I tried to…"_

"_What do you mean you tried? It's simple, just feed him. If you had just done that, this never would have happened. He's sick Quatre, he has pneumonia. Do you realize he could die from that alone? What were you thinking!"_

_Quatre looked away guiltily. "I'm so sorry."_

"_You're sorry. Do you think that's enough? Why don't you tell him that? It's your fault he's like this!"_

_Quatre tried his best not to cry but he didn't know what else to do. Trowa was right. This was all his fault. He felt terrible. It wasn't that he didn't care for Andy, that definitely wasn't the case. He cared more about both his masters than anything else but unfortunately, being a genie, he couldn't force anything upon either of them. Even if their desires didn't fit their needs. All the genie could think about was that Andy might have died and it would be all his fault. How would he be able to live knowing that?_

_It was nine o' clock in the evening by now. Trowa leaned over the boy on the bed with his arms folded to form a pillow for his head. He lowered his head down to rest his forehead on his hands. "I'm going to get some rest. I don't want to see you here when I wake up." He paused._

_Quatre nodded as tears streamed down his cheeks._

"_We'll discuss this more later."_

_Trowa turned his head the other way as a sign that the discussion was now closed._

Quatre wiped his eyes on his sleeve then shoved his hands in his pockets. He began to walk. He could have just evaporated and drifted back to the house but he felt more like walking. He needed to do a lot of thinking besides that, he felt he needed to punish himself for being so irresponsible. He lowered his head hoping passersby wouldn't notice that he was crying. He walked slowly dragging his feet. He began to wonder what would happen when Trowa got home. Would he even let him stay? Would Quatre end up alone and homeless? Would Trowa beat him black and blue? Would he put him back in the lamp and never let him out again? That last possibility seemed like the worst punishment he could receive. He could hardly imagine not seeing his two masters ever again. Despite the hurtful things Trowa had said the night before, Quatre didn't think badly of the man; he was just concerned for his cousin's well being. He had every right to be angry and Quatre vowed that he would do whatever it took to atone for his reckless deed.


	11. Reconciliation

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: PG

Chapter Eleven

Reconciliation

After the long walk back to the house, Quatre headed straight for the attic. The doctors would most likely release Andy once they were sure his condition was stable enough; that could be anytime now. The blonde genie curled up on his afghan pulling his knees to his chest and set his head on them. He had done a lot of thinking during his exiled stroll but he still had no idea how he would patch things up with Trowa. He knew from his earlier conversation with Andy that the boy was not angry with him. Trowa on the other hand was much less forgiving. He had every reason to be mad though. It was because of Quatre's incompetence that Andy fainted so it was natural for Trowa to be upset with him.

Quatre sobbed. He hated feeling inadequate. He tried so hard to please that he hated himself when he couldn't perform at a high enough standard.

"I'm sorry Master Trowa… I'm sorry Master Andy. I'm so useless," he whimpered.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Trowa was sitting in a chair next to the bed where Andy was resting. He looked at his watch. It was already twelve in the afternoon and the doctor hadn't come back to check on Andy. Trowa wanted to just carry Andy back to the car and leave but felt it would be in his best interest to wait for the doctor's approval. Trowa sighed and looked over at his cousin. The boy was snoring softly so Trowa knew he wasn't going to wake up immediately. He wouldn't mind if he left the room for five minutes to stretch his legs.

Trowa stood up and walked out of the curtained area. He walked out of the room and stood for a moment outside the door. He watched nurses and doctors pass by but none of them looked like the doctor that examined Andy. Trowa groaned in frustration. Where could he be? He wanted to go already; he'd been there since the afternoon of the day before.

Suddenly down at the other end of the hall Trowa saw a familiar face. It wasn't clear at first. Why did he get the feeling he had seen this person before? Trowa suddenly left his spot next to the doorway to get a closer look at the man in the white lab coat. He was speaking to a nurse at the other end of the hall. Suddenly the man turned slightly in Trowa's direction and it became obvious. This was the doctor who saw him when he came in for his vomiting problem. This was the same doctor who gave him a physical when Trowa suddenly freaked out and stormed off. Trowa stopped for a moment when the other man caught sight of him. The man handed the nurse a clip board, said something, and then she walked away. Trowa stood still while the doctor approached him.

"Have I met you before? You look familiar to me," he said to Trowa.

"Um, yes. I think you gave me a check up last month. You're Doctor Martin right?"

"Yes. Oh I think I remember now. You slapped my hand and ran out of the exam room in the middle of the physical. Were you not feeling well?"

Trowa blushed somewhat embarrassed. He had acted like a skittish mouse in the presence of the doctor and made a complete fool of himself.

"Yeah. I'm really sorry. I feel kinda stupid about that."

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" asked the doctor.

"Well… Kinda. I um… I'm sorry. It's nothing personal. I know you had to feel my stomach to make a proper diagnosis, I just freaked out and I wanted to apologize for that."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

"No, don't worry about it," Trowa reassured.

"Has your condition improved since then?"

"Um… A little. It is getting better."

"Well if I may make a suggestion; from what I gathered during our last visit, you have gastritis and you can buy antacids over the counter to make it better. And most likely, your condition is made worse by stress so try to relax more, that will also help."

Trowa smiled at the man. "Thank you, I will."

The doctor smiled in return. "Good luck Mister Barton. I hope your condition clears up soon," he said before turning to leave.

As soon as the man had left, Trowa smiled in contentment. It felt good to be relieved of that burden. After that day, Trowa had felt so foolish but now that he had explained himself and realized the other man wasn't upset, he felt relieved. He walked back to the recovery room feeling much lighter.

His cousin was still snoozing when he returned, which was good. It might have been upsetting for the boy if he were to wake up to find that Trowa had gone off someplace. Trowa sat back down next to the bed and groaned. Where was the doctor? He looked back at his watch to find that he had only managed to kill ten minutes while stretching his legs and chatting with Doctor Martin. He wanted so badly just to wake the boy and escape before anyone noticed they were gone.

"Hmmph. You lucky brat. Wish I could sleep through the day and avoid this boredom too," Trowa mumbled.

Finally there were footsteps and a man in a white lab coat appeared from behind the curtain and smiled.

"Sorry to keep you waiting Mister Barton. One of my appointments ran late," Andy's doctor said in a quiet voice. He didn't want to wake the sick boy.

Trowa stood to face the man, asking in an equally quiet tone, "Will he be released today?"

The doctor nodded and smiled again. He held out a small brown bottle of pills. "These are the antibiotic. He should take one every twelve hours for the next two weeks. They work best if taken on an empty stomach but if they make him nauseous then he can take them after eating instead. His condition should start to improve within three days and symptoms usually go away completely after a week or so. However, I recommend that he keep taking them until the bottle is empty only because we want to make absolutely sure the whole infection is gone before he stops taking his medication. This will prevent it from flaring up again."

"Okay," Trowa said as he took the pills from the doctor's hand.

"He shouldn't have a problem but in case he has an unexpected reaction to the medication, bring him back in immediately so we can assess the situation."

"Sure," Trowa nodded.

"Well then you two are free to go. By the way, where is the other young man that was here with you?"

"Other young man? Oh the blonde one. He left last night to go home and get some rest."

"Oh, well, good luck then. I hope Andy starts feeling better. Oh, but one more thing; please make sure Andy has something to eat as soon as possible. We don't want him fainting again," said the doctor in a cautioning tone.

"I'll make sure he eats as soon as we get home," Trowa assured him.

"Enjoy the rest of your day," The doctor smiled before disappearing behind the curtain.

"Andy," the boy heard as he felt himself being shaken slightly.

"Mmmah… Wha-what?" he mumbled.

"Andy. Wake up. We're going home now."

"Hm… Oh. Okay," he yawned.

Trowa kneeled on the bed and took his cousin in his arms and carried him all the way out of the hospital. The boy was undoubtedly weaker now than when he fainted; he hadn't eaten anything in over twenty four hours. Trowa glared remembering how angry he was with Quatre for being so negligent. The reason he had sent the genie away wasbecause he wasn't sure how he was going to reprimand him. He had no freedoms or privileges to be restricted except leaving the house and somehow Trowa knew that taking that away from him wouldn't do any good. Quatre was too humble and losing the freedom to roam would be nothing. He'd simple nod his head and agree that he deserved the punishment. Then again, what ever Trowa did, the outcome would always be the same. He could kick him in the stomach and Quatre still wouldn't protest. There was nothing the man could take from him that would irritate him in the least. That made Trowa even more frustrated. He had to find some way to upset Quatre for upsetting _him_.

Andy fell asleep in the car on the way home and Trowa tried hard to stay awake himself. Sleeping leaned over a hospital bed and worrying about his cousin had taken a toll on his nerves and he was now exhausted. As the two pulled up the driveway, the sad face of the blonde entity looked down upon them from the attic window. Quatre ducked away as he began to feel sick to his stomach. He wrapped both arms around his waist but they did little to comfort him. He still felt absolutely terrible. He paced the attic a couple of times then settled back in his little corner, lifting the afghan over his head in hopes of hiding from his misery. It didn't work but he stayed like that, shrouded in darkness.

When Trowa entered the house went straight for Andy's room to put the frail preteen back in bed. He looked at the boy for a moment. He was pale and sweaty.

"Andy? He asked softly.

"Hm…"

"What would you like for lunch?"

"Uh… I don't feel much like eating Cuz."

Trowa sighed. "Well you have to. Now tell me what you want."

"What? Why do I have to, it'll taste gross anyway 'cause I'm sick."

"Andy, this is exactly why you fainted yesterday, because you didn't eat."

"I told Quatre that I wasn't hungry. I didn't feel like eating."

Trowa paused for a moment. "Wait, you told Quatre you weren't hungry?"

"Yeah, he tried to get me to eat my breakfast but when I looked at it, my stomach churned. I couldn't eat it. Then at lunch, he offered me lunch but I still wasn't hungry. I didn't have any appetite."

Trowa groaned. "Andy, you have got to eat. Medicine isn't going to help on its own you know. You need food to maintain energy. You can't go a full day without eating in you condition. Now I'm going to go make you some soup and I want you to down every drop. No arguments, got it?"

Andy scrunched his face. "Fine," he mumbled.

Trowa walked away with a scowl. Now he realized what Quatre was trying to tell him.

"_Master, I tried to…"_

"_What do you mean you tried? He's sick Quatre, he has pneumonia. Do you realize he could die from that alone? What were you thinking!"_

"_I'm so sorry."_

His words had no doubt bruised poor Quatre and he hadn't done anything to deserve it. Trowa felt like such a louse. How could he have been so cruel and callous? The guilt rising within him would surely kill him if he were to let it fester. He had blamed Quatre, causing him to believe that he was the reason Andy fainted. Before just now, the man had been scheming possible ways to punish the genie but he failed to realize that he had already dealt him the harshest punishment of all. Basically he had told Quatre that he had failed in his duties as a servant. Extremely harsh considering the only thing Quatre ever wanted was to please him and Andy. Trowa didn't just hurt his feelings, he shattered his whole world.

Trowa hated moments like this. He had never been good at making apologies. He always ended up blushing and stuttering every time. It wasn't easy admitting he was wrong.

"Shit!" Trowa cursed as boiling soup splashed his hand. He whipped it away and shook it off rapidly.

He turned off the burner and moved the pot of soup to a cool area of the stove. He sighed running his fingers through his long pointed bangs. He shook his hand a couple more times before resorting to sucking on the affected area to soothe the pain. Eventually, he poured the soup in a bowl and set it on a breakfast tray with a spoon and a can of 7-UP. He took it all up the stairs into Andy's room and watched as the boy grimaced slightly.

"Yeah well it doesn't matter what you think of my cooking. You still have to eat it all," was Trowa's reply to the boy's scowl.

Andy groaned in annoyance but took the tray and began to dip his spoon into the broth. Trowa left the room and proceeded toward his own. He knew exactly where Quatre was hiding but he couldn't just float through the ceiling the way the blonde male did and there were no stairs to take either. He would have to climb up into the crawlspace located in his closet. He shoved his coats and work clothes to the other end of the hanger rod then took down some boxes and junk from the top shelf. After that he grabbed the chair from his desk and positioned it beneath the square hole in the ceiling. Trowa stood on the chair and pushed the cover of the crawlspace to the side. It was a tiny hole, and for a moment, Trowa was afraid he would get stuck if he dared to lift himself through it. He had to though. He had to apologize to Quatre. He grabbed the sides of the crawlspace opening and then jumped up and lifted himself into the attic.

Quatre looked out from under the blanket when he heard shuffling movements but then ducked back in immediately once he realized it was Trowa making the noise. Trowa sat at the edge of the crawl space and peered across the attic to see the other male wrapped in the afghan. A hand peeked out to pull the edge of the afghan further down to hide his tear soaked face. Trowa frowned looking at the weeping genie. He hesitated for a moment then stood up and approached the blanketed figure. The genie made no noise and no attempt to move but did not remove the afghan. He didn't dare looked into his master's eyes. He was still far too ashamed. After a long time Trowa knelt down before Quatre and reached out to uncover him. The shrouded male twitched as he felt a hand being placed in his head and then the afghan was slowly pulled away revealing a blonde head resting on thin arms, his face hidden from view.

Trowa sighed and frowned. "Quatre?" he whispered. "Quatre, I'm sorry."

The genie raised his head but an inch and looked up at Trowa. "W-why?"

"I made a mistake. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that; it wasn't you fault."

"…Of course it was my fault. Master Andy fainted because I neglected to feed him. Master Trowa, I know you feel bad about yelling at me but you shouldn't. You have every right to be angry. I made a huge mistake and I deserve to be punished," Quatre sobbed.

"No, that's not true. It wasn't your fault. Andy was being stubborn and wouldn't eat. He told me what happened… That's what you were trying to tell me at the hospital but I wouldn't listen." Trowa's voice began to trail off at the last part. He felt like such an ass. It was true, Quatre had tried to explain himself but Trowa simply thought he was trying to make excuses.

Trowa looked down into those large tear filled eyes that stared up at him. Trowa's frown remained; his face full of regret. He scooted closer and took the end of his sleeve, using it to dry Quatre's tears.

"Please forgive me Quatre. I'm so sorry," Trowa whispered as he wrapped his arms around the smaller male. Quatre was stunned for a moment. Trowa set his head on the genie's shoulder and hugged him tighter. Quatre smiled warmly and returned the embrace.

"You don't need to ask me for forgiveness Master," Quatre spoke softly.

"Well, I'm asking anyway. Forgive me?"

"If you must ask then I forgive you but I never held any hostility against you to begin with."

"That's because you're a genie. If you were a regular person, you'd hate me."

"If I were a regular person this wouldn't have happened because I could just force Master Andy to eat his food."

"That's why I'm apologizing. There was nothing you could have done about it."

Quatre sighed and rested his head on Trowa's shoulder. "Thank you for understanding Master."

"Mm-hm…" was Trowa's reply. "Oh!" he said as he lifted his head from Quatre's shoulder, "Guess what."

"W-what?" Quatre asked slightly shocked.

"I saw Dr. Martin today at the hospital. You know the one that examined me last month?" Trowa said while still holding onto Quatre's shoulders.

"Oh… Yeah?"

"Yeah. I was freaked out at first because our visit didn't go so well but when we started talking, I found out that he's actually a really respectable person. I mean, of course I had no reason to think he wasn't. I made the mistake of judging him before I really knew him very well and I acted totally paranoid. He was really understanding about the whole situation though."

Quatre smiled warmly. "I'm glad you two were able to make amends. You know, it really does take a lot of courage to stand up and face your fears head on like that. I'm so proud of you Master."

Trowa smiled back taking Quatre's face in his hands. He looked into his eyes and said, "I have you to thank for that."

Quatre blanched slightly. "Me?"

"Don't you remember?" Trowa caressed Quatre's cheeks softly. "I was a total wreck that day. All those horrible memories plagued my mentality; I was going out of my mind. It was all I could think about even though I tried so hard to forget. Then you came to my rescue and gave me the strength to stop running and start facing up to my fears."

Quatre bashfully averted his gaze. He was blushing. Trowa leaned forward slightly. "I owe you one," he whispered before embracing the genie once more. Quatre became overwhelmed by a warm, comforting sensation as he leaned into Trowa. He didn't know what to say, so he remained silent. He wanted so much to tell Trowa it was no big deal but he was afraid he might sound impolite.

Trowa smiled softly, his arms holding the slighter male firmly. He did indeed owe Quatre a great deal of gratitude because he knew he would never have the strength to confront his fears otherwise. He just wanted to hold Quatre forever, and he might have if not for the noise that interrupted them.

"Trowa! I finished my soup!" Andy hollered.

Trowa groaned. "I swear he's even more of a brat when he's sick."

Quatre giggled then got up. "I'll take care of his dishes Master," he said before sinking through the floor.

Trowa sat for a moment longer just smiling. He looked down at the spot where Quatre had been sitting; at the wrinkled afghan. It was filthy from sitting on the dusty attic floor for so long. He made up his mind to wash it but as he was lifting it up, something fell to the floor with a thud. Trowa looked down slightly shocked to see a framed photograph of Quatre standing next to none other than his late uncle, Antonio Santiago.


	12. Don't Call Me Master

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Chapter Twelve

Don't Call Me Master

Trowa waited patiently to hear the dial tone. He stood with the receiver to his ear and listened as it rang twice before he got an answer on the other end.

"Hello?" came the masculine voice.

"Hey Treiz, it's Trowa," he answered.

"Oh… Hi. How is Andy doing?"

"He's fine. They released him earlier today."

"What happened?"

"The doctor said he fainted 'cause he hadn't eaten all day yesterday. He can be a real pain when he's sick. Even when I brought him home today I almost had to force feed him."

"Ah, the joy of having children," Treiz teased.

"Hm… Yes, joy. Anyway, I was just calling to thank you for giving me yesterday off on such short notice. I promise I'll be in tomorrow.

"Don't worry about it, emergencies happen. I understand."

"Thanks. You're the best. I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye."

"Kay, bye Trowa."

Trowa hung up the phone. The rest of that day went rather smoothly. After Andy fainted, Trowa was afraid he would have to leave Andy in the hospital while he was at work. Luckily, Treiz was accommodating and let him miss work so he could be there for his cousin in case his condition worsened. Things were looking up now, thankfully. Andy was safe at home recovering, the situation with Dr. Martin was all cleared up, and Quatre was no longer the focus of Trowa's anger. The only issue Trowa still hadn't settled now was that picture of his uncle and Quatre. It was strange. The picture had to be old because his uncle still looked so young and fit. The last time Trowa had seen the man he was lying in his casket. He was a not but a frail old bad of bones then. In the picture, he looked the way he had fifteen years ago. Trowa tensed as he stood in the kitchen. That meant that Quatre may have known his uncle even before Trowa had met him at the reunion. What was even stranger was the fact that Quatre didn't look any younger in the photo then he did now. He looked exactly the same.

Quatre had told him once that he didn't look a day over eighteen. What did that mean? Was he eighteen or did he maybe just look eighteen when he was actually much older. He still had a hard time believing in the existence of genies even after living with the other male for so long. It just wasn't plausible. Trowa made his way to the laundry room down the hall and stuffed the filthy afghan into the wash machine along with a few dark colored shirts. He added the soap and fabric softener then started the wash cycle. He sighed and ran a hand threw his long bangs with mild frustration. It wasn't possible. From what he had gathered by looking at the photo, it was at least fifteen years old, possibly older and though his uncle looked younger, Quatre looked the same as he did now. If the photo was as old as he suspected it was, then Quatre would have been a mere toddler, at least in theory.

"It just doesn't make sense," he mumbled to himself.

Trowa saw the blonde drift drown stairs into the kitchen. He watched as a bowl magically floated from the cupboard and a spoon from the drawer. Then a pot sprang from the cabinet and a can of soup from the pantry. Trowa watched wide-eyed at the genie as he manipulated several household items without even touching them. It was as though they just obeyed him. The soup can opened on its own and poured itself into the pot on the stove as the flame rose beneath it. A wooden spoon came to stir the soup gently. Quatre merely smiled and watched as the soup cooked itself.

Trowa watched with fascination. The blonde had cooked his meals several times in the past but he had never actually watched him. Now that he thought about it, nothing Quatre did made any sense. He could hover above the ground, defying the law of gravity, He could move objects without touching them, which defied every law of physics, and what's more, he could grant wishes. Watching Quatre do such amazing things made Trowa think that maybe the photo wasn't that strange after all.

Quatre turned to see Trowa watching him curiously. He looked mildly confused. Quatre just gave him a cheerful grin and said, "Master Andy finally has his apatite back. Isn't that great?"

Trowa smiled a little and gave a quick nod. Quatre placed his feet on the ground and approached the other male still smiling. "Are you hungry Master Trowa?" he asked politely.

Trowa shook his head. "I'm not hungry yet. I wanted to finish that left over lasagna anyway. I'll just heat it up in the microwave later."

"Oh, okay then."

Just then the soup started to boil. Quatre went back to tend to it before it splashed all over the stove. The spoon lifted out of the pot and the flame simmered down until it went out completely. Automatically, the pot lifted and poured the soup into the bowl on the counter. The bowl and spoon then hovered smoothly through the air right into Quatre's hands. Quatre hummed softly as he walked past the taller male to bring the bowl of soup up to Andy.

Suddenly Trowa turned. "Quatre…" he began.

Quatre stopped and looked back at him for a moment. "Yes Master?" he replied.

Trowa paused for a second, just looking at the other male. Quatre started to look confused. "Master Trowa?"

Finally Trowa exhaled and lowered his head. "Never mind. It's nothing," he said as he walked past Quatre and up the stairs. Quatre watched for a moment as the man entered his room and shut the door behind him. Quatre stood in confusion a minute longer. What was Trowa about to say? Quatre shrugged. It must not have been too important. He continued up the stairs and into Andy's bedroom.

"Master Andy? I made you some Tomato Soup," Quatre said holding the bowl and spoon up as if presenting it to the boy.

Andy sat up and faced Quatre with a slight smile as he reached out to take the soup and spoon. "Thanks Quat," he said in a raspy voice.

Quatre chuckled. He hadn't been called Quat for at least a year. It was Antonio's little nick-name for him. He covered his mouth trying to end his mild fit of laughter. Andy stared at him oddly.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just that it's been a long time since someone has called me Quat."

"Oh. Do you want me to stop calling you that?"

"Oh no, I don't mind. Actually, I rather like the way it sounds."

"Hm…" Andy sighed as he looked down at his soup. He took a spoonful and gulped it down. He suddenly looked at Quatre again. "Quat? Did you know that Tomatoes are a member of the Deadly Nightshade family?"

Quatre leaned in. He knew of course, but telling him that would spoil the fun. "Is that so?" he asked with a smile.

"Yup. We learned that in History the other day. Back a long time ago, people use to think that since Tomato plants were related to Deadly Nightshade, which is poison, they must be poison too. For the longest time, people avoided eating them. But one day this guy ate a few Tomatoes in front of the whole town and didn't die. He proved to the world that Tomatoes were safe to eat."

Quatre laughed inwardly at the fact that Andy couldn't remember any of the dates or names affiliated with his History lesson. But then again, those things weren't as important to a child as the initial story. Quatre sat happily and listened to his young master go on about his History lesson while he ate his Tomato Soup. About a half hour and three lessons later, Andy yawned. "I'm tired. I'm gonna go to sleep, 'kay?"

Quatre stood up and took the empty soup bowl out of Andy's loose grip. "Rest well Master Andy," he said softly. Andy smiled at the blonde briefly, then flopped himself over to face the opposite direction. Quatre closed the door gently as he exited the boy's bedroom.

He saw Trowa heating up the left over lasagna as he entered the kitchen to deposit Andy's empty soup bowl in the sink. He would wash it later. The microwave beeped and Trowa removed the lasagna, got a fork and sat down at the table. "Master, would you like something to drink?"

Trowa looked up with a start as if he hadn't notice the other male was present. "Um… Would you mind getting me a beer?"

"Of course I don't mind," Quatre smiled as he retrieved a bottle of Coors. He handed it to Trowa and then backed away. He stood there for an unknown amount of time before Trowa looked up once more at the blonde male. Why was he just standing there? Quatre stood quietly, just watching Trowa eat, his hands clasped together over his chest as if he was anticipating something. Trowa was confused. "…Would you like to sit down?" he asked finally.

"Oh. Uh, yes thank you."

Quatre pulled out the chair next to Trowa and sat down with a plop. The blonde had seemed rather bouncy that day, despite all he'd gone through earlier on. Trowa found it amazing that he could just push a side something like that. He showed no signs of lingering animosity, held no grudge, and sought no revenge. What was wrong with him? Anyone else would have dwelled on this for a good portion of the rest of the day but as he looked upon the smiling blonde, he had to wonder if anything had happened between them at all.

"Why are you so damn happy?" he asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

Quatre dropped his smile in favor of a confused stare. "What do you mean Master."

"Aren't you angry at me at all?"

"…No. I could never be angry at you."

Trowa fed himself some more lasagna. "You should be."

"Master, we talked about this already. I'm not going to cry any more."

"Why not? You have a right to cry don't you?"

Quatre frowned. "…No. I don't have any rights at all."

Trowa was silent for a moment. What was he suppose to say to that?

"Master Trowa, I am a genie. When somebody frees me, I become in debt to that person. I belong to them as no more than a possession; a slave. I don't have the right disobey, disagree, argue, or hold a grudge against my master. I owe you for rubbing the lamp and I will be obedient, trustworthy, and loyal until all three of your wishes are granted. After that I will return to the lamp… and we will never see each other again."

Both were silent now, the shocking realization hitting them both like a sledgehammer. Quatre frowned and lowered his head. "I dread the coming of that day," Quatre said almost too softly to hear. Trowa had pretty much forgotten about his meal as he stared at the other male. Quatre looked as though he would cry again. "You should finish that lasagna before it gets cold Master. I-I'm going to go for a walk around the block."

With that Quatre stood from the table and headed for the front door. Trowa just watched silently as the smaller male opened the door then walked out and closed it behind him. Trowa looked down at his plate blankly. A strange, nagging feeling had suddenly taken hold of him and he no longer had any interest in his food. He stared at the front door momentarily remembering how upset the blonde had looked. He suddenly shot up from the table and headed out the front door as well.

Standing on the front porch, he looked around before he finally spotted Quatre walking down the street about to turn the corner. He started running to catch up to him. Quatre didn't even seem to notice the heavy footsteps approaching him but when Trowa finally set a hand on his shoulder, Quatre jumped, startled. He looked at Trowa with tears in his eyes once more. He jerked his head away when he finally saw who had been following him.

"Master… I'm sorry. I'm trying not to fall apart in front of you. I don't want you to see me like this. It's embarrassing."

"Why would you be embarrassed to cry?"

"I just…" Quatre sobbed, "I just don't want to leave. I will miss you too much. I will miss Andy too much. I… Oh God I don't want to go!"

Trowa looked up at the night sky and sighed then shook his head. "I know," He said quietly. He wrapped his arm around Quatre's shoulders pulling him to his side. Quatre blushed feeling Trowa's warm body pressed against his side. He felt a wonderful comfort at that moment and his reaction was to smiled. He turned and looked at Trowa with that sad grin and he set his head to the man's chest as if begging to be held. Trowa did so, embracing the blonde in the middle of the sidewalk. Quatre quivered and sobbed softly as Trowa looked on.

"I suppose it'll be okay once I leave, as long as I have memories like this to look back on."

Trowa held him tighter pressing his nose and cheek into Quatre's flaxen tresses. Nearly moved to tears himself. He realized then that he didn't want Quatre to leave either. He wanted to cry. He wanted to hold Quatre and never let him go. Never let him leave. He wanted him to stay forever and he didn't know why.

Trowa released Quatre and looked down into those tear filled sapphire eyes. He smiled a sad smile back at the blonde before dabbing his tears with the end of his sleeve.

"Let's head back, okay. I shouldn't leave Andy alone while he's still sick but I don't want you walkin' around the neighborhood by yourself at this time of night either. This is LA you know."

Quatre blushed thinking of what Trowa might have been implying. But he smiled knowing that Trowa was expressing concern for his safety. It's always nice to know that somebody cares about you.

"Yes. You are right we should return to the house. I'm sorry for being so rude; getting up and leaving like that."

"Don't worry. I can't blame you. You probably felt uncomfortable with all the questions I was asking you. It's just that you're so… different than most people. So selfless and thoughtful. I…" he wavered. "I still have a hard time believing all this so you'll have to pardon my skepticism."

Quatre smile but couldn't look into Trowa's eyes. "I understand Master."

"Quatre? I've been thinking a lot about this lately and I have to say something and I don't want you to take this the wrong way."

"Take what the wrong way?"

"…I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful for saying this but could you please stop calling me Master? I feel like a damn slave driver every time you call me that."

"But I belong to you."

"It's illegal to own people now-a-days Quatre. Besides, you're not some shirt in my dresser drawer."

"But…"

"No. I don't wanna hear it. You can call me Trowa and that's final."

Quatre stared almost awkwardly at the other male. "…Okay. If that's really what you want Ma-I mean Trowa."

Trowa sighed and relaxed his shoulders. It was as though the subject had been bugging him endlessly. "C'mon. Let's go back home," he said as he patted Quatre on the shoulder.

Quatre walked along side him. Both were silent for a long while, just walking next to each other. Trowa looked down at the petite blonde who looked back at him and offered a small smile. Trowa didn't smile back; instead he turned to face forward again.

"I…" he started.

"Yes?"

"… I have something I want to talk to you about."

"What's that?" asked Quatre.

"It… It can wait. We'll talk back at the house."

Quatre frowned slightly. "Am I in trouble?"

Trowa chuckled softly. "No. I just need to ask you about something."

Quatre didn't say anything more. He simply nodded in acknowledgement as they both continued walking. Quatre was now curious. What was it Trowa wanted to ask him?


	13. A Proper Introduction

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Special Note: Okay, I won't lie to you; chapter 13 has been completed for a couple of days now. I was gonna wait a little longer but I know how it is when achapter leves you hanging at the end. I hate that myself so I have decided to post this chapter sooner rather than later. Once again, thank you for reading.

Chapter Thirteen

A Proper Introduction

Trowa had almost forgotten that he hadn't showered since the day before. He had been so distracted that it just slipped his mind. However, now, it was the only thing on his mind. He stripped down before entering the bathroom and turning on the water. He yawned as he stood in front of the shower. It was late now, ten or so, and Trowa knew he would have to get to bed soon as he had work in the morning. He stepped into the shower sliding the glass door shut afterward. He stood under the spray and sighed; how refreshing it felt to finally take a nice hot shower and get clean.

Meanwhile Quarter was almost finished washing the dishes he had put in the sink earlier. He absent-mindedly scrubbed the soup bowl and spoon along with Trowa's dinner plate and fork before setting both in the dishwasher to be cleaned over night. Trowa never finished his lasagna but it didn't make Quatre too worried. Now that Trowa wasn't as stressed out, he was keeping his meals down quite well. It had been a week or two now since Trowa had felt ill and Quatre surmised that stress had played a huge role in the deterioration of his health. In the absence of stress, his condition had begun to improve so neither Andy nor Quatre worried as much about him not eating from time to time.

Once Quatre had finished loading and switching on the dishwasher, he dried off his hands and left the kitchen. He walked into the living room and looked around. The pillows on the couch were slightly crooked. Normally, he wouldn't fret but he had nothing better to do so went to fix them. After doing so he looked around again trying to find anything at all to keep himself occupied. His mind was glued to what Trowa had said earlier. He had a question and Quatre was anxious to find out what that question might be.

Finally curiosity got the better of him and he drifted up the stairs setting himself down in front of his master's door and listened for a moment. He knew Trowa had gone to take a shower and didn't want to invade his privacy. Leaning closer he listened intently to the sound of running water. About a half a minute later, it stopped. He stood back and waited patiently a few minutes; the amount of time he felt it would take Trowa to get dressed. After a while he knocked on the door and listened closely.

"Yes?"

"Um… T-Trowa?" the informal title felt strange to him, "I-that is, didn't you want to ask me something?"

"…Oh yeah. C'mon in, the door's unlocked."

Quatre turned the handle and opened the door cautiously. He froze, a pink glow spread across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He stared wide eyed at the other male who was wearing only black boxer shorts. He immediately averted his gazed in the other direction.

"S-sorry! I thought you were already dressed. I'll wait," Quatre stammered as he attempted to exit the room.

"Quatre, I am getting ready for bed. I don't plan on putting anything else on so you might as well come in now."

Quatre turned back around still blushing, "Oh… O-okay."

He entered the room but stayed at least five feet away from the other male. Trowa sighed and shook his head slightly.

"Okay okay," he said as he pulled a pair of jeans out of his dresser and slipped them on without zipping or buttoning them. "Better?"

Quatre didn't know how to respond to that.

"Oh dammit, will you sit down already!" Trowa growled with frustration, pointing to the bed, "Seeing another guy in his boxers is nothing to get all flustered about."

"Sorry," Quatre winced as he sat down obediently.

Trowa sat down with a huff next to him flipped his long wet bangs out of his eyes. Quatre stared at him expectantly as he continued to blush. Trowa sigh then began.

"I've been meaning to ask you about that picture you have up in the attic…" Quatre tensed. He gave Trowa a shocked look. "The one with you and my uncle with the mountain in the background. I was going to wash your blanket and when I picked it up, the picture fell out of it."

Quatre remained silent.

"That is my uncle next to you in the photo right?"

Quatre nodded but still said nothing.

"…You haven't changed one bit, have you?"

"…What do you mean?"

"I mean the picture must be old. The way my uncle looks, he's so young in that picture. Like how I remember him from meeting him at a family reunion years ago. But you look exactly the same."

"I don't age," Quatre reminded him.

"That's not possible. Everyone gets old."

"If that were true, I would have been old a long time ago. Actually, I'd be dead and gone long before you were born."

"C'mon Quatre. Everyone knows there is no such thing as immortality. We all have to die someday."

Quatre shook his head. "Trowa, why don't you take a guess at my age?"

Trowa paused for a moment. It was obvious that the other male had to be older than he looked. The photo was proof of that. But perhaps the photo wasn't as old as he though it was.

"……Twenty?"

Quatre chuckled sounding slightly amused. "Really, I'm flattered but you're way off."

"You can't be older than that. There's no way"

"How can you be so sure?"

"Okay. I give up. Why don't tell me how old you are then."

"Well I'm rather young for a genie but still ancient. I'll be two thousand years old on my next birthday."

Trowa didn't show any sign of being shocked or even astonished. He just stared. Quatre obviously wasn't being taken seriously. Trowa sighed. "Don't lie to me."

"…I _can't_ lie to you. I'm telling the truth."

"You expect me to believe that you were born two thousand years ago and you aren't dead yet. That's insane."

Quatre sighed. It was obvious that Trowa was not going to be easy to persuade in this matter. Though it was only natural for him to be skeptical; most people barely live to see eighty much less two thousand.

"You really expect me to believe that, don't you?"

Quatre only nodded.

"That would mean you were born in the year four A.D. and in any case, how is a genie even born?"

Quatre froze. God he wanted so badly avoid this conversation. He hated talking about it. It brought back memories of a time he wished to forget all together.

"Genies, in the traditional sense, are not born. They just exist, like God."

"Then why are you telling me your age if genies just exist?"

Quatre looked down. "That's… in the traditional sense."

There was a long silence. "You lost me there," Trowa said finally.

"I… I am a different kind of genie. I don't just exist like other genies because I was born a human," Quatre replied softly.

Trowa looked almost intrigued now.

Quatre sighed again. Now he would have to tell Trowa the whole sad story. This was going to be impossible. He hated even thinking about what happened. How he'd been so selfish and cruel. He hated himself for the way he use to be. So angry and vengeful. Quatre didn't want to but he had to be honest with his master. He took a deep breath before he began.

"In the fourth year anno Domini, I was born in a rather impoverished town on the outskirts of a lavishly rich nation. There was no such thing as middle class at that time; only rich and poor. I was born poor. My mother died soon after giving birth to me and by father was always very depressed because of that." Quatre blinked a few times attempting to fight back his tears. "My father was just a farmer who sold his fruits and vegetables to people on the street of the city. He never made much money but we were getting by at least. Every cent he made went to providing for my sisters and me. My father was in poor health because he worked himself into the ground every day tending to his gardens, taking care of us, and traveling to the city, and back with his cart full of the foods he sold. It pained me to see him deteriorating like that. When I became old enough, I started helping him work but we still weren't making a whole lot of money. I… I lost a few of my sisters to disease because we couldn't afford to see a doctor. Eventually I lost my father as well and I was left to take care of the family by myself."

"So then what happened? How did you end up…like this?"

"…I did my father's work and supported the family well enough but I was always yearning for more. For a better life all together. One day, while pulling my cart into the city, I came upon an old, rusty oil lamp sticking out of the sand in the desert. I picked it up thinking maybe a craftsman dropped it while pulling his own cart into town. But there were no other venders around at the time so I had no idea as to who might have dropped it. I decided to keep it and ask the craftsmen that lived in my town later. I did so but they all said they had never seen it before." Quatre chuckled slightly. "Some of them were a little insulted that I would accuse them of making such an ugly thing. Anyway, it didn't seem to belong to any of the people in the town and I didn't know what else to do with is so I brought it home. I thought that if I repaired it and cleaned it up maybe I could sell it and earn some money to sustain us for a day or two. But when I attempted to rub a tarnish stain off of the side, it started shaking. It spewed out smoke and then he appeared. A magical genie and I could hardly believe my eyes." Quatre recalled memories of that day very vividly as he shared the details with Trowa.

_/A tall lean entity emerged from the puff of smoke and smiled smugly down at the shocked blonde youth. Quatre stood unsteadily as though he would faint at any moment. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape as he stared astonished at the figure standing in front of him. The smiling male bowed to him and said smoothly, "Thank you Master, for setting me free of that retched lamp. Allow me to express my gratitude by giving you three wishes."_

_Quatre swallowed hard. A few of his sisters coming to stand be beside him. One of them tugged at his sleeve saying, "It is a genie Quatre. They really do exist."_

"_Make a good wish Quatre," said another. "Wish for wealth."_

"_Wish Mother and Father were alive again," said a younger one._

_Quatre said nothing for the longest time. He just stood there and stared at the tall figure hovering slightly above the dirt floor of their home. He continued to grin almost wickedly as he returned the young blonde's gaze. The genie's long white-gold locks framed his thin hansom face and draped over his shoulders. His lavish outfit would shame even the sultan himself. The genie grinned wider and approached the blonde._

"_Speechless?" he purred running long fingers through Quatre's soft flaxen locks. "I can read you mind you know. I know exactly what it is you want." He leaned in to whisper in Quatre's ear. "You have a black heart Quatre Raberba Winner." With that, He let go of the smaller male and backed away but these word had shocked Quatre./_

"He was right though," Quatre continued, "Deep down, my intentions were cold and sinister. I didn't just pine for a better life; I wanted to get even with society. All the fat cats at the top of the economic pyramid, I wanted to punish them. Let them know what I went through. I wanted for them to know what it was like to suffer such losses. I hated them for having such easy lives and I wanted to make them pay," Quatre stated rather coldly. His tone was a far cry from is normal optimistic, cheerful demeanor. He sounded… malevolent.

Quatre looked away before continuing. "For my first wish, I asked the genie for the largest amount of money I could think of. He granted my wish and after that my sisters and I could live comfortably within the city's walls where the perks were better. We had so much money that I never had to work another day to feed the family. But that still wasn't enough for me. My second wish was to live in the city's palace with my sisters thus forcing the sultan and his family to live in poverty the way I had to for eighteen long years."

"How could that have happened?" Trowa questioned. "How can you just shove them out like that? I mean surely there'd be some sort of rebellion and the sultan wouldn't give up his position willingly."

"I really can't explain how it happened. I went to bed one night and the next morning I awoke inside the palace as a prince. My sisters and I lived happily for several months and I waited to make my third wish. I knew exactly what I wanted too. I wanted to live forever so that I could stay in power forever. I felt like I should be in charge because I would make the right decisions. I felt I had more of a sense of justice than our previous ruler. I thought I was being helpful. In truth I was being selfish. I finally approached the genie and told him what I had decided."

_/"Immortality? I had a feeling you would ask for that. Very well then, I shall grant your final wish. But be advised young Master, selfish wishes often entail harsh consequences." Grinning, the genie bowed before Quatre saying, "Farewell young Master. Long life to you. Very long life."_

_Suddenly Quatre's wrists burned as though molten iron had been poured on them. He screamed holding out his hands to see black mist-like flames circling both wrists. The flames solidified forming a pair of thin bangles similar to those worn by the other male. Quatre fell to his knees staring fearfully at his new shackles._

"_No this isn't what I wanted!" he cried to the tall male._

_The other blonde merely chuckled and watched as his former master quivered in terror. He kneeled down in front of him and gently caressed his pale cheek. He glared at Quatre saying, "Perhaps you should have been more specific with your one remaining wish. After all, you reap what you sow and you have been a very selfish, naughty little boy. Therefore you will be punished severely."_

"_No I just wanted justice," Quatre cried._

"_Justice indeed. You just wanted to rise to the top and seek revenge on those you envy."_

_Quatre's eyes welled with tears as his entire body slowly became enveloped in purple mist. "Please! I'm begging you. Stop this, I will repent! I swear I will!"_

_The genie was not swayed by Quatre's desperate pleas. "It's too late for that now. But perhaps the next time we meet, you will have learned your lesson."_

_Quatre continued to scream and shed tears as his body dissolved into the mist. He cries became faint and distant as his entire form was sucked into the old beat up oil lamp he had found in the desert months before. Finally the cries ceased and the room fell silent. Quatre found himself in a world of darkness. He could neither see nor feel anything but he could hear. Oh he could hear. He could hear his sisters' voices calling his name. He wanted to yell. Wanted to shout out, "I'm in the lamp!" but he could no longer find his voice. He could only cry as he listened to their panicked shouts. The time went by so quickly inside the lamp and eventually his sisters pushed on in their lives. Quatre waited and listened for years but no one ever came to release him from his musty prison. Eventually he gave up on being rescued altogether./_

Quatre sobbed as he wiped away stubborn, anguished tears. Trowa looked down. His story seemed farfetched but then again so did winning a million dollars in the lottery. Needless to say he had Trowa convinced. Trowa took hold of Quatre's hand. Quatre couldn't look at him, he was feeling too contemptible.

"…I'm… I'm a terrible person," he sobbed.

"Don't say that. It's not true," Trowa said as he wrapped his arms around the smaller male. Quatre clung to Trowa, as he cried into his shoulder. "It's not true at all. Maybe you made a mistake almost two thousand years ago but that means you've had almost two thousand years to think about it. I know you're a better person now."

"How do you know that?" Quatre sobbed.

"Because I know what you're like. Andy knows what you're like. My uncle knew what you were like. He had his arm around you in that photo so I could tell he was fond of you. Andy and I, we consider you a part of our family. I couldn't easily say that if I thought you were a bad person."

"…Trowa, you are so kind to me," Quatre whimpered, his face still buried in Trowa's shoulder.

Trowa backed away and looked into his deep sapphire eyes and he felt an overwhelming sensation then. There were no words to describe it. He smiled wiping a tear from Quatre's eye.

"This is the third time I've had dry your eyes today."

Quatre smiled too, "I know. I'm just a wishy-washy kind of guy I guess."

There was silence for a moment. Trowa looked away then back at Quatre.

"I have one more question to ask you," he said finally.

"What's that?" asked Quatre.

"…How did you know my uncle?"

Quatre paused for what seemed like a long time. Finally, he said softly, "He was my previous master."

Trowa looked up at the ceiling. "That's right. He found the lamp buried in the Arabian Desert, that's what they said at the memorial service."

Quatre nodded. "I should have been more honest with you. I had planned to tell you the whole story but it's still such a touchy subject for me to talk about." Quatre stood from the bed and took a few steps toward the door. "I attended that family reunion when you met him for the first time."

Trowa froze.

"You were only six at the time so I'm sure you don't remember a lot from that experience."

"I remember meeting my uncle at that reunion but I don't remember meeting you there."

"We didn't… formally meet really. I saw my Master talking to you but I stayed away because the two of you seemed to bond so well, it would have been a shame to interrupt the moment." Quatre looked over his shoulder at Trowa and smiled. "He kept telling me how he wanted you to come on a trip with us some time so that the three of us could get to know each other better." He turned away again. "He really took a shining to you. He kept telling me about what a great kid you were and the way he described you made me want to meet you. A proper introduction. Master Antonio promised he would introduce us at the next reunion he attended but, he never made it to another reunion. He was always traveling and so we missed several of his family get-togethers. Then his health began to go south after our trip to The Philippines. I guess it was just old age. He passed away one night in his sleep but before he died he asked me to look after you because you were his favorite nephew."

Trowa simply watch the other male hoping he would continue.

"…I promised I would though I didn't see any possible way for us to meet again. He never made his last wish; that's the reason why I was able to remain with him for so long. If he had made his third wish I would have disappeared immediately. Although, I had to return to the lamp once he died anyway. I saw no possible way for us to meet. But when I was released from the lamp again, and I saw you, I realized that Master Antonio had probably passed the lamp down to you in his will.

"Exactly, but I thought it was just an ugly, banged up, piece of trash."

Quatre chuckled. "It's suppose to look that way because people who are down on their luck will try to shine it up and sell it only to find that what's inside is worth far more to them than any amount of money. Your uncle, however, had no intension of shining it up or selling it as he was quite well of all ready."

"Why did he rub the lamp then?"

"Curiosity," Quatre replied.

There was a silence then Trowa asked, "How did you know it was me that day in the apartment?"

Quatre turned around with a smile. "I recognized your hair immediately. Those long bangs of yours, I could never forget them. I wasn't sure, of course, until you stated your name. Then I certain."

Trowa recalled that day vividly now. He frowned remembering how he had treated Quatre so disgracefully when they had only just met. He regretted his behavior now that he understood but at the time, he didn't know how else to react. He was paranoid and skeptic, He had never seen a genie before. He didn't believe in magic and miracles, but he couldn't deny that Quatre was not your average, garden variety, young adult.

"I'm sorry."

Quatre looked puzzled.

"I was rude to you that day."

Quatre swatted the air in a rejecting manner. "Don't worry about it. It's understandable."

"No. my behavior was deplorable. You were so polite and shrugged it off even but you shouldn't have becuase I denied you the proper introduction you wanted and deserved."

Quatre looked astonished as Trowa stood from the bed and blushed as he came closer. He flinched minutely as Trowa reached his hand out between them.

"Let's start over. Hi. My name is Trowa," Trowa said with a welcoming smile.

It felt awkward to Quatre but he smiled and took Trowa's hand.

"Nice to meet you Trowa, my name is Quatre. How do you do?"


	14. From the Past

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Chapter Fourteen

From the Past

Trowa sighed and rolled his eyes as he stood in the doorway to Andy's room with a glass of water in one hand and a white pill in the other.

"That li'l shit," Trowa growled.

It had only been a few days and already Andy was almost completely rid of his pneumonia symptoms. The medication coupled with adequate bed rest had really done him good; it was getting him to _take_ his medication and rest adequately that was the real trick. Trowa set the water and pill down on Andy's dresser before leaving the room.

"Andy!" Trowa shouted in no particular direction. "Andy! Front and center, now! Don't make me come looking for you!"

"Idle Threats will get you nowhere Cuz," a voice shouted back from some unknown place. The voice originated from somewhere down the hall and Trowa turned immediately but saw nothing. He groaned.

"Andy, get out hear now or you're not going to Caleb's today."

There was a silence then a bleached blonde head peeked out from behind the bathroom door frame. "Aw… C'mon Trowa. It tastes nasty. Do I really have to keep taking it? I'm already better."

"Yes," Trowa said mockingly. "You have to take them until their gone or it's gonna flare up again."

Andy, groaned and pouted before stepping out of his hiding place. "Why couldn't the stupid doctor give me the chewable kind?"

"Because you're a big kid now and you can take adult medication."

Andy scrunched his face in disgust. He hated the way the pills tasted. He continued to pout as he walked back into his room ahead of Trowa. Trowa stood in the doorway and watched as the boy sat down on his bed and tossed the pill into his mouth so that it would land at the back of his throat. He then put the glass of water to his mouth and took a large gulp to wash the acrid medication down. He gave Trowa a sour expression before hopping off the bed and running downstairs to watch the last part of his favorite Saturday morning cartoon.

"Hi Quat."

"Hello Andy," Quatre replied from the kitchen. He smiled then continued to wash the dishes from lunch. After hearing Quatre address his cousin as just Trowa and not Master Trowa, Andy insisted that the genie only call him Andy. Quatre wanted to object but the boy wouldn't hear of it. So now he was referring to both his masters in a more casual tone which made his feel slightly disobedient; however, since it was their demand, he decided it was more appropriate for him to address them as they saw fit.

Suddenly Trowa appeared in the kitchen to pour what was left of Andy's glass of water into the sink. Quatre smiled holding out his hand, offering to take the glass and wash it. Trowa pushed his hand away politely saying, "You've washed enough dishes already." He smiled at the blonde before attempting to rinse it in the sink.

"I have two more plates to wash anyway," Quatre offered.

"I'll do them. Go relax or somethin'. Go watch T.V. with Andy."

Quatre looked over at the boy watching cartoons then back at Trowa. "Okay," Quatre said with a small nod.

Quatre felt awkward when Trowa stopped him from doing work and told him to relax. It made him feel even more awkward when Trowa took over what ever task he had stopped Quatre from doing. It was the genie's job to serve after all. On the other hand, Trowa was not use to having someone else do his work for him so it made _him_ feel awkward to see Quatre doing chores all the time.

Quatre sat down on the couch next to Andy. The two exchanged a quick smile before the landing their gaze on the T.V. screen. Trowa finished loading dishes into the dish washer just as the doorbell rang.

Andy immediately sprung up calling "I'll get it!" before racing to the door. Andy opened the door to see his friend Caleb grinning as he stood on the front porch.

"Eager much. I could hear you shouting from out here," Caleb teased.

"You'd be eager too if you had to stay caged up in your own house for almost a week with nothing to do," Andy countered.

Caleb's mother was making her way up the driveway just then. "Now Caleb, you were out of the car before it even stopped moving."

Caleb blushed and grinned in embarrassment. "Mom…" he whined.

Andy grinned smugly at his friend. Who was he calling eager?

Trowa appeared in the doorway setting his hand on Andy's shoulder. "Go on 'n get your overnight bag ready," he told the boy.

"Oh yeah. C'mon in Caleb," Andy said putting his arm around his friend's shoulder as he led him into the house. The two preteens dashed up the stair. Quatre watched them with a smile as he turned off the television.

"Would you like to come in for a sec?" Trowa offered Caleb's mother as he moved aside. "How've you been by the way?"

"Thank you, I'm doing fine," she said with a slight nod before stepping into the entry way.

Quatre smiled as he went to greet their guest as well.

"Hello Quatre. How are you?" Caleb's mother asked.

"I'm doing quite well, thank you," he replied.

"Thanks again for letting Andy come over Cindy. I think he was starting to get cabin fever from being kept in the house all week."

She giggled slightly. "How is he feeling?"

"He's much better now. Oh that reminds me."

"Right his pills," Quatre said as if reading Trowa's mind. "I'll get them."

Quatre went into the kitchen to get the antibiotics out of the medicine cabinet then returned to hand them to Trowa.

"Thanks Quatre," Trowa said appreciatively. "Okay, these are Andy's meds. He needs to take one every twelve hours. He just had one so he can have another one before he goes to bed tonight. I told him not to give you a hard time about taking them but if he does, just give me a call," Trowa explained to Caleb's mother.

Trowa handed the bottle to her and she nodded and smile. "I'm sure I won't have any trouble. He's always well behaved when he comes over."

Quatre chuckled and Trowa sighed as though he was exhausted. "Why is he a perfect little angel whenever I'm not around?"

"Well at least we know he's well behaved when visiting other people's houses," Quatre said with amusement.

Not much later, the two boys reappeared in the living room. Andy had his duffle bag and was ready to head out.

"All ready?" Cindy asked them.

The two boys nodded. Trowa walked their guests to the door then looked at Andy. "Remember, you be on you best behavior. Okay?"

Andy nodded with a smile. Trowa smiled back and ruffle the boy's hair playfully.

"Have fun," Quatre added.

"Bye Quat. Bye Trowa," Andy called as he waved at them from the driveway.

The two boys got into the back seat of the van and started chatting up a storm even before Caleb reached out to slide the door shut again. Cindy waved to Trowa and Quatre. "You're picking him up at three tomorrow?" she called.

"Yes. I'll be there at three," Trowa confirmed.

With that Cindy got in the front seat and started the van again. Trowa watched as the three of them drove off down the street and disappeared around the corner. Trowa sighed. He loved Andy but he needed a break from child rearing every once and a while. Quatre stood with his arms crossed as he looked off in the direction the van had gone. Trowa smiled as he looked at the blonde. Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lighter then sat down on the bench swing at the other end of the porch. He pressed the cigarette between his lips and touched the flame of the lighter to the end, inhaling slightly to get it started.

Quatre turned slowly to look at his master. Trowa wasn't quite sure what that meant; the blonde's face was blank as he stared at him. Trowa took a long drag before removing the cigarette from his mouth. He stared back for a moment, slowly blowing a stream of smoke into the air. He picked up the pack offering it to Quatre. Quatre smiled softly and pulled one cigarette out of the pack and sat down next to the other male. Trowa flicked the lighter flint and held the flame out to the other male. Quatre leaned in, touching the end of his cigarette to the flame until in glowed bright orange. Then he sat back.

Quatre took a puff and removed the cigarette letting the smoke drift from between slightly parted lips. Trowa watched him with a sort of lethargic fascination. Quatre looked different somehow. But then again, cigarettes supposedly made you look more attractive. Many would beg to differ but from one smoker to another; the act of lighting up was undoubtedly sexy. Trowa smiled inwardly. Quatre didn't look quite as gentle and sweet with a lit cigarette in his mouth.

Trowa took another drag and let it out into the air before speaking. "You know, I kinda feel bad about this whole week."

Quatre looked at him with slight confusion. He removed his cigarette as well. "Why is that?"

Trowa gazed off into the distance. "I made you stay home this whole week to watch Andy while I was at work so you never made it to the La Brea Tar Pit Museum to see the Condor exhibit. I feel guilty now," he said before taking another puff.

Quatre smiled a little. "That's okay. It's not that important."

Trowa was silent. He knew he would say that. Quatre always settled for less because demanding more would be too audacious. There was a long pause then Trowa finally asked, "Still wanna go?"

"Well sure, eventually, but there's no hurry. It will be there years from now. I don't have to see it any time soon."

"Why do you wanna see it anyway?"

"When I saw the article on the new exhibit, it reminded me of the time Master Antonio and I went to a wild life conservation center where they hatched and raised California Condors to be released back into the wild."

"I thought those were extinct."

Quatre shook his head fervently. "No, they're still around. They're endangered but they do exist in the wild. I believe they were completely extinct from the wild at one point in time but conservationists began breeding them and releasing them back into their natural habitat so they are starting to make a comeback."

"Hm," Trowa said with a nod. "Well that's good I guess. I don't know much about wild animals."

They both continued to smoke for a few moments then Trowa flicked his spent cigarette on the porch then stood and stepped on top of it, grounding into the concrete surface. Quatre took another puff as he watched Trowa walk slowly to other end of the patio and lean over the wooden railing as he stared at something that seemed far off someplace.

"I don't have any plans today. Maybe we can go see the exhibit together," Trowa said still leaning over the rail.

Quatre jerked suddenly in excitement. "Really? We can go?" He asked dropping the cigarette on the ground along with Trowa's.

Trowa turned around quite suddenly and smiled at the blonde male. He nodded slowly. Quatre smiled from ear to ear and leaped at Trowa joyfully embracing the taller male.

"Thank you Trowa you're the greatest."

Trowa was caught off guard for a second but he patted Quatre on the back. "Your flattery will make me vain someday," he teased.

"Oh dear," Quatre said as he stepped back a couple feet. "Am I spoiling you with too many compliments?" he countered.

They both laughed. "Do you wanna go right now?" Trowa asked.

Quatre nodded eagerly.

"Kay, I'll get my wallet and keys then we can go."

Quatre swung his arms as he bounded down the porch steps to go wait by the car. A minute later, Trowa returned to shut and locked the front door. Then he too made his way to the car parked in the driveway. Quatre was bouncing excitedly on his heels as he waited for Trowa to unlock the car. Trowa had to chuckle at the other male's childish behavior. At least it wasn't annoying he thought. In fact, it was rather cute.

Though the museum was in the same county, it was still about a half hour drive from where they lived. They didn't mind though. They were having fun enjoying each other's company and singing songs that played on the radio. Soon they arrived at the museum and both were excited to go and take a look around; though Trowa remained calm on the surface. Quatre, not wanting to forget his manners, waited until Trowa had turned off the car and opened his door before he made any attempt at exiting the vehicle. After waiting politely, however, the blonde could not resist rushing to the chain link fence surrounding one of the largest of the La Brea Tar Pits. He wrapped his fingers in the steal wire mesh and gazed down at the mastodon replicas that were placed with their feet in the tar-filled water hole; a few Saber Toothed Cat replicas placed here and there made whole predator and prey situation come to life.

"Uck!" Trowa grumbled holding his hand over his nose. "You know, I forgot how much I hate the smell of tar."

"It does smell really bad out here but I bet it smells okay inside the museum," Quatre said optimistically.

"Good, let's go in there. After all we won't see that condor exhibit standing out here."

"This is true," Quatre agreed.

They headed toward the entrance side by side. Quatre maintained his cheerful smile as they walked through the entrance. Inside they were greeted by a lady in a work suite who stood behind a cash register.

"Welcome to the La Brea Tar Pits Museum, the fee is ten is ten dollars a person."

Quatre, looked slightly deterred; he didn't have any money. "Oh Trowa I didn't know…" Before Quatre could finish his sentence though, Trowa had already handed the lady a twenty. He turned to look at the blonde.

"You coming?" he asked.

Quatre looked at the lady then back at Trowa.

"Quatre I already paid for you."

"Oh, okay," Quatre said shyly and followed the other male into the museum lobby. He walked at Trowa's side, his head bowed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it would cost money to get in here."

Trowa looked at him oddly. "Why do you always get like this when I do you a favor? Instead of apologizing, you should try saying thank you."

"Thank you just doesn't seem like a sufficient demonstration penitence."

Trowa sighed. "Quatre, I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything. In times like this, you don't need to feel guilty. Just say thank you."

Quatre smiled. "Thank you Trowa."

"You're welcome. See? Now wasn't that easy?"

Quatre nodded, blushing slightly.

The two of them proceeded past an auto electronic Wooly Mammoth and a still Saber Toothed Cat exhibit. Something across the room caught Trowa's eye. It was the partial skeleton of what appeared to be a chimp held in another room behind a tinted window. Trowa walked up to it and watched as a holographic image reflected on the tinted glass. It was the image of an early human.

"Lucy," Quatre said suddenly.

"Lucy?" Trowa asked.

Quatre nodded. "Australopithecus aferensis; one of the earliest links in the chain of human evolution. Australopithecus was a small ape capable of walking upright. This particular skeleton is not the first of this species to be discovered but it is an important archeological discovery because it is the most complete Australopithecus skeleton ever found. Well actually, this is just a replica."

"And it was found here?"

"No. Actually she was found in Northern Africa."

"She?" Trowa asked. "How can you tell?"

"Scientists identified the gender by examining the shape of the pelvis. Females have wider hips than males. Once scientists determined her gender, they decided to give her an official name; she was an extraordinary discovery after all. As it turns out, the Beatles' song Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds was playing on a portable radio when the scientists were piecing together her bones. That's how she got the name Lucy."

"Huh. That's unfortunate. Poor chic was name after a song about LSD."

Quatre chuckled.

"Well that's interesting but we'd better go find those Condors. That's why we're here after all."

Quatre nodded with lingering amusement. He had never thought about it but it was true; Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds was a code name for LSD back in the sixties. It did seem rather odd that a group of respectable archeologists would name one of their findings after anything having to do with hallucinogenic drugs.

The two pressed on, this time not stopping to view the other exhibits. There would be plenty of time to go back and see them later. Quatre smiled as they approached the condor exhibit. His eyes lit up as he approached a case containing replicas of several large birds that resembled vultures. Trowa stayed where he was giving a strange look to the display case. The Condor was certainly no symbol of majesty. They were just a bunch of nasty old scavengers. Why was Quatre so fascinated by something so revolting? Then Trowa saw the genie's eyes glisten and he blinked a few times. Trowa lowered his head. Now it was clear; Quatre wanted to come see the Condors because they reminded him of Antonio. They reminded him of the time he had gone with Trowa's uncle to see the California Condors at the wildlife conservation Center.

Trowa approached him slowly and placed a hand on his shoulder. Quatre was startled slightly as he hadn't been paying much attention. Trowa smile at him softly.

Quatre smiled back and blinked a couple more times. "I'm okay," he assured.

The two of them stood for a moment longer just looking at the stuffed condors. Sure they were nothing special but they held great significance to the blonde genie. Trowa knew that this little museum trip meant the world to Quatre. Just knowing that made him feel happy.

Their observation was suddenly disrupted by a loud voice calling out, "Trowa!"

Trowa turned to see a young man jumping and waving at him from the Triceratops exhibit just ahead. He grinned from ear to ear as his braided, chestnut hair swayed with the motion of his waving arm. Trowa looked shocked as he stared at him from across the room.

"…Duo?"


	15. Stranger in the Alley

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: R

Chapter Fifteen

Stranger in the Alley

The young man standing next to the Triceratops exhibit rushed over and hugged Trowa tight. Quatre looked confused at the two other males. Who was this person and why was he hugging his master? Quatre felt a twinge of jealousy as he watched the long-haired male finally back away from Trowa.

"It's been months, how have you been? You look great," Duo said beaming brightly.

Quatre watched as another male with unruly, brown hair appeared and yanked the grinning man away by the earlobe.

Ah…! Ow-ow-ow-ow!" whined the braided one.

"I swear you have no class. I can't take you anywhere," the surly male growled as he glared at Duo.

"Oh hey Heero. Long time no see."

Heero nodded smiling minutely at Trowa.

Trowa suddenly set a hand on Quatre's shoulder and said, "Guys, this is my roommate Quatre."

Duo rushed over immediately and shook Quatre's hand. Quatre looked dazed but nonetheless, he returned the gesture.

"Quatre this is Duo," Trowa continued.

"N-nice to meet you Duo," Quatre smiled genially.

"And this grumpy guy next to me is Heero," Duo said nodding toward the other male.

"You love testing my patience, don't you?" Heero mumbled as he glared at Duo once again.

"So what are you doing here? I never would have expected to see you in a museum of all places," Duo teased.

"Quatre's been waiting to see the new Condor exhibit all week and it's my day off so I decided to come as well. By the way, why on Earth are you here Duo? You flunked World History in high school, didn't you?"

"What? No!"

"He just barely passed with a D," Heero said with an amused smirk on his face.

Now it was Duo who glared at Heero. "Must you be such an asshole?"

"Actually, we're here because I needed to do some research on the Cretaceous Period for my Paleontology class," Heero said, ignoring Duo's acerbic expression.

"You're going to college?" Trowa asked slightly amazed.

"Sort of; I'm just taking online courses so I can keep working fulltime."

"Well even so, that's great. What's your major?"

"History."

"Heero wants to be a high school Social Studies instructor," Duo elaborated.

"That's great Heero. I hope you succeed," Trowa said encouragingly.

Heero only nodded in return.

Suddenly Duo cleared his throat. Everyone turned their attention to the young man with the long braided hair. "So uh… If you don't mind my asking, how did you two become roommates?" Duo inquired. His question was directed mainly to Trowa.

Quatre froze. What could he say to that? He couldn't tell the other two men he was Trowa's genie. First of all, they wouldn't believe him, and second, he couldn't risk putting Trowa's reputation in jeopardy. Before long, however, Trowa spoke up.

"Quatre is my late uncle's adopted son."

Quatre suddenly turned to Trowa looking slightly stunned. Trowa gave the blonde a quick wink. Quatre smiled as relief washed over him.

"He was introduced to me at my uncle's memorial service. He had no living relatives and I didn't want him to be alone, so I offered to let him move in with Andy and me."

"So you two are cousins, sort of?" Duo said as if thinking out loud.

"You could say that," Trowa said as he smiled at Quatre.

"Hm…"

"What are you hm…ing about now Lover?" Duo asked throwing his arm around Heero.

"I was just thinking that Duo and I were gonna hang out at Tripps tonight and we'd love it if you guys came with us."

"Is that some sort of new gay bar or something?" Trowa asked with a knowing smirk.

"It's not a bar, it's a night club, and it's not just for gays, it's for anybody and everybody eighteen and up," Duo said matter-of-factly.

"Well Andy _is_ sleeping over at a friend's house tonight so we could I suppose. What do you think Quatre? Should we go with these rambunctious party animals?"

Quatre smiled saying, "Sounds like a good time. I'd love to."

"Sounds like we're in. Oh wait, Quatre. Quatre doesn't have any ID."

"Actually…" Quatre started as he reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a wallet and opened it to show Trowa a brand new California identification card with his picture on it. "I stopped by the DMV last week and picked this up so I'm official."

"You got an ID card?" Trowa asked with shock and confusion.

"Yeah. With all the things going on this week I guess I forgot to say something. Sorry."

"Well looks like everything's in order then. We'll pick you guys up at seven," Heero said in his usual tone.

"You have my address?"

"'Course we do. You gave it to us when you moved out of that ransacked, old hole in the wall, remember?"

"Oh, duh! I knew that." Trowa said scratching the back of his head grinning. He felt a little ditzy just then.

Heero took hold of Duo's sleeve and began to tug him back to the Triceratops exhibit. "Come along Duo; we've been here an hour and I haven't seen half of what I came here for. Bye Trowa. Bye Quatre. We'll see you guys at seven, be ready.

"Bye guys," Duo said with a small wave.

"Bye. It was nice meeting you," Quatre smiled as he waved enthusiastically.

Trowa only waved briefly before turning in the other direction.

"Wanna check out the gift shop?" he asked.

"Oh, you didn't want to see any of the other exhibits?"

"Why is something else you wanted to see."

"Well… No. I guess not, it just seems like we should spend more time here since you spent twenty dollars to get us in."

"Well let's check out the gift shop then."

"O-okay."

The two of them didn't stick around for very long. Everything in the gift shop was blatantly overpriced but they had some pretty neat thing. One of the fossil fish caught Quatre's eye and Trowa offered to buy it for him but Quatre refuse to let him. Trowa had already spent ten dollars on him and even that was too much. They left the museum empty handed. Quatre felt bad about that despite the many times Trowa had reassured him that it was alright. He felt so guilty; forcing his poor master to spend money on him so he could look at a flock of stuffed buzzards for five minutes. Trowa on the other hand couldn't understand why Quatre was being so hard on himself.

"Trowa?" Quatre finally spoke up as they were walking back out to the car. "Thank you for coming out here with me and paying the entrance fee at the museum. I don't mean to look upset. I really am grateful I just wish there was some way to repay you."

Trowa chuckled and ruffled Quatre's hair. "You're too cute, Quatre. Come on lets get back so we can be ready when Heero and Duo come to pick us up tonight."

Quatre smile and mused over how lucky he was that Trowa was his master. Oh they were going to have such fun tonight. Quatre had never been to a night club but he had watched shows and movies in which people went to bars and club and danced to loud, rhythmic music and drank themselves silly. But there were a couple of things he was still confused about.

"Trowa?" he asked as they got into the car.

"Hm?"

"What did you mean by a gay bar?" he asked in a straight forward tone.

Trowa seemed to freeze for a moment. He then looked at the blonde. "A gay bar… Well it's just a bar where people go to drink alcohol but… Um… You see most of the people who go to them are gay."

"…Gay, isn't that an old fashion term that means you're happy?"

Trowa snorted trying to fend off an outburst of laughter. "N-no, when I say gay I'm referring to people who are attracted to other people of the same sex."

Quatre blushed. "I thought that was a homosexual."

"Gay… Gay is just a slang term. It's easier to say than homosexual ."

"So a gay is a homosexual."

"Exactly," Trowa said as he put the key into the ignition and started the car.

Quatre nodded slightly as if soaking in this new information. Then suddenly he gasped in realization. "Trowa? Does that mean that Duo and Heero are…gay!"

Trowa was backing the car out of the parking space when he put on the breaks and looked over at the blonde. Quatre had his hand on the dashboard, bracing himself as the car jerked to a halt.

"You're kidding, right? You're fuckin' with me," Trowa said, almost laughing.

"N-no. I didn't know," Quatre stammered while blushing with embarrassment.

Trowa closed his eyes letting out a small sigh and shook his head. "Didn't you notice it when Duo called Heero 'Lover'?"

"I thought maybe he was teasing him. He did look rather cheeky after all."

"Well, they're fairly laid back and don't show much affection toward one another in public but I mean, two guys living together, going places together, that's just not the kinds of thing guys do unless there going out."

"What about us?"

Trowa continued to back out of the parking spot and make his way back onto the main road. "What about us?" he asked confusedly.

"We live together don't we? And we went to the museum together."

Trowa suddenly looked at him strangely.

Quatre blushed. "Oh no, I'm not implying anything. All I'm trying to say is that guys don't always need to be in love to live together and do things together, right?"

Trowa was silent for a moment as he turned his attention back to the road. Quatre looked in the other direction as well, feeling slightly embarrassed still. Then he felt a hand placed on top of his head. He looked back at Trowa who continued to stare at the road.

"You really are too cute," he mumbled then slowly pulled his hand away.

Quatre looked at him for a long time. He wondered why Trowa had been acting so strangely.

Hours later, a black BMW pulled up in front of Trowa's house. Heero parked the car and waited as Duo went to knock on the front door. In the living room Quatre sat on the couch flipping through a clothing catalog. He looked at suits, casual wear, evening wear, and so on. He just couldn't decide what would be appropriate for a nightclub setting. Trowa appeared just then. Quatre turned and saw that he was wearing tight, dark, grayish blue T-shirt, worn out blue jeans, and a black jacket. On his feet was a pair of brogans. He looked cool but casual so Quatre could surmise that this club wasn't going to be anything upscale or fancy. He flipped through the catalog one more time until he found a male model wearing a dark, grey turtleneck with cutoff sleeves and black stripes across the chest. The pants were tartan in blue and back with a studded belt and a chain running from the front belt loop the one on the hip. The shoes were polished, black loafers.

Quatre smiled. "That's what I'm gonna wear." He stood up and held out his arms. Trowa watched as the blonde's feet lifted up off the ground his clothes warped and morphed until they match the style and color of the outfit in the catalog. It was an occurrence he had witnessed several times in the past but it amazed and shocked him nonetheless. Trowa continued to stare as Quatre lowered himself back onto the living room carpet. Quatre tilted his head slightly and smiled. "I believe this is appropriate. What do you think?"

Trowa looked him over for a brief moment then nodded his approval. A moment later the doorbell rang. "That must be them, ready?"

"Yes, I'm ready," Quatre replied with a hint of excitement.

Trowa opened the front door to reveal the braided young man, who wore a tight leopard print T-shirt, black leather pants, a red and black belt and another, burgundy eel skin belt which he had only secured to one belt loop so it hung at an angle as it wrapped around his hips, and finally, on his feet were a pair of black boots with heals so tall he was almost eye to eye with Trowa.

"You two all set?" he asked with a charming smile.

"M-hm," Trowa nodded.

Quatre approached the two of them and smiled at Duo.

"My, aren't we adorable tonight," Duo purred as he eyed the blonde devilishly.

Quatre blushed modestly and smiled wider.

"Tell me Quatre, is it really true that blondes have the most fun?"

"Take it easy Duo. What would Heero do if he saw you flirting with another guy?" Trowa said stepping in front of Quatre protectively.

"Oh… Watsa matter Trowa? 'Fraid I'll steel him from you?"

Trowa blushed a bright red. What _was_ the matter? He and Quatre weren't 'an item' after all. What difference did it make whether Duo flirted with Quatre or not.

"N-no," was all Trowa could say in return. He glared at Duo defensively.

"Hey, you don't have to get so butt hurt, I was only joking. C'mon, let's get going," He said putting his arms around both Trowa and Quatre and leading them out on to the front porch. Heero was looking up at them from the car parked out on the curb. He growled impatiently and beeped the horn twice. Duo smiled cheekily at his boyfriend and released the other two males. "Oh… Heero. Your making me jealous; I think you like that horn more than me. Say it aint so," Duo whimpered as he made his way back to the car.

Heero rolled his eyes and started the engine again. Quatre followed Duo down the walkway to the car. Trowa locked the front door before following after them. He watched as Duo took Quatre's hand and opened the back door for him to get in. Once Quatre was in, Duo closed the door and jaunted around back of the car and got in on the other side. Why wasn't Duo sitting in the front with Heero? Trowa thought.

"I guess you're sitting up here with me," Heero sighed as he smiled at Trowa. Trowa glanced into the backseat to see Duo giggling and waving at him. He felt a pang of jealousy just then, apparently because Quatre was sitting with Duo and not him. However, he squelched the negative feeling immediately hoping no one else would notice. Quatre managed to catch a glimpse of the disappointed look on Trowa's face though. He watched Trowa round the front of the car and get in on the front passenger side and felt suddenly at fault for making Trowa upset; that is of course, if he was even upset. Looking at him now, he looked fine, the feeling was gone and Quatre couldn't help but wonder if it was ever present in the first place. Soon Duo had stricken up a conversation and all discomfort was forgotten as they headed into the city.

The four of them drove down Hollywood Boulevard, passed The Walk of Fame and Grauman's Chinese Theatre. Quat looked out the window in awe at the impressive oriental looking structure. Duo thought it was odd but didn't say anything in regards to it. They finally pulled up to a grey building on the corner. It was a modern looking structure with a blue, lit sign that read Tripps in a paint spattered look; apparently to appear more artsy. Bouncers at the entrance were checking identification and weeding out potential trouble makers. The line moved rapidly and soon the four were standing in front of two large brutish men in dressed in black with earpieces and walkie-talkies. They held out their hand and demanded ten bucks per person. They looked intimidating but the four of them eventually made it into a dimly light restaurant and bar area. There were streamers draped from a doorway on the other end of the room and loud, bass bounding music vibrated from there. It was a remix of The Bad Touch.

"Ah the Blood Hound Gang. I can't think of a better song to start off a night of alcoholic beverages and dirty dancing," Heero said almost sardonically.

The four approached the bar and Duo held up his finger to get the bartender's attention. He came to their end a moment later and asked each of them what they wanted to drink.

"I'll have a Dos Eques," Trowa shouted over the music.

"Coke fore me. I'm driving," said Heero.

"A Throw Me Down, Fuck Me Hard, Italian Sex on the Beach!"

Trowa and Quatre both shot an abrupt look of shock at the braided man.

"Duo, I don't think it's wise of you to be hitting on the bartender when your boyfriend in sitting right next to you."

Heero chuckled softly. "Don't worry. That wasn't a pickup line, that's the name of the drink."

"Throw Me Down, Fuck Me Hard, Sex on the Beach!"

"_Italian_ Sex on the Beach," Duo corrected.

"Oh, my mistake. What'll you have Quatre?"

"Um… just a Mimosa please,"

The bartender nodded and when to fix their drinks. Trowa got his first of course because it was only a beer. Next came Heero's Coke, then Quatre's Mimosa, then finally Duo's Throw Me Down, Fuck Me Hard, Italian Sex on the Beach.

Duo took a sip of his sugary beverage before starting up another conversation. "So… Are you two romantically involved at all?" he said bluntly.

Quatre looked shocked at Duo and Trowa nearly spat his beer all over the bar. He managed to swallow it down but not without coughing afterward. Quatre blushed as his eyes darted from Duo to Trowa.

"W-we're not-" Quatre began.

"What gave you that idea!" Trowa managed to say between coughs.

Duo shrugged. "I dunno. I guess because you're so protective of him."

"Am not!" Trowa defended.

"Oh? Then why did you defend him so adamantly earlier when all I did was compliment him?"

"You were flirting."

"Tomãto tomâto. What about when I sat next to Quatre in the car. You were jealous weren't you?"

"I…" Trowa blushed.

"And you," Duo accused pointing at the blonde. "Your constant blushing leads me to believe that you're hiding something."

As if on cue, Quatre blushed harder. "Well I…Um."

Both Quatre and Trowa looked at one another then looked away. "W-we're just roommates," Trowa muttered.

"Well Duo, looks like you've managed to embarrass the hell out of them. Baka!" Heero growled as he flicked his boyfriend on the side of the head. Duo flinched. He then turned to the other two ignoring Duo's pouty complaints. "I think what he's trying to say is if you two have feelings for one another, why not come out and admit it. At least to each other. If you don't have feelings at all, then just go about the rest of the night having fun and forget this whole conversation." He then grabbed Duo by the arm and drug him into the dance room.

"M-my drink! Someone'll drug it!" Duo cried with an outstretched hand.

"It's open bar night, you can order another," Heero hissed.

Quatre and Trowa sat quietly at the bar, avoiding eye contact with each other. For a few minutes, all they did was sit and drink their alcohol. Finally Trowa spoke up. "Wanna go outside and have a cigarette?"

Quatre looked at him finally and smiled. "Yeah."

They both took on last drink before leaving the bar. They exited the building through a door with the words, "Smoking Area" written on it. Once outside, Trowa got out his cigarettes and offered one to Quatre then took one for himself. He lit his then reached over with the lighter to and lit Quatre's. They stood in silence once more, avoiding one another. Trowa looked around at the other people smoking around them. One man and a woman weren't smoking at all but flirting. The situation was becoming uncomfortable. All the things Duo had said a few minutes ago, all the accusations, could they be based in fact? Was it possible? Did he really have feelings for Quatre?

He looked at him then, just a glance. Quatre knew Trowa was looking at him but to look back would mean blushing so he kept his vision aimed in the other direction. Trowa exhaled thick smoke into the air before clearing his throat. "You know," he started, "Sometimes Duo just says whatever's on his mind. It's like he has no inner monologue."

"Do I really blush that much?" Quatre asked as he took the cigarette out of his mouth. "I guess I do don't I? I can't help it though; I'm just…"

"Sensitive?" inquired an unknown voice.

Both Trowa and Quatre were surprised to see they weren't alone. A man with light blonde hair wearing a black trench coat appeared next to them. Quatre gasped in shock and covered his mouth while backing away. Trowa watched Quatre with concern.

"Quatre?" he asked setting a hand on his shoulder.

"Zechs!" Quatre shuddered and dropped his cigarette on the ground.

"…Zechs?" Trowa said looking back at the stranger.

The man chuckled and grinned cynically. "I'm flattered; nearly two thousand years and you still recognize me."


	16. Dance the Night Away

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. I also do not own Gackt or any other former member of Malice Mizer.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Chapter Sixteen

Dance the Night Away

Trowa held on to Quatre as he glared at the man with the long platinum hair. Quatre continued to shake feeling the intensity of their situation grow with each passing second. Suddenly Quatre felt Trowa release him. He lifted his head to see his master approach the man known as Zechs.

"Trowa…"

Trowa paused a couple feet from the taller male. "You must be that asshole Quatre told me about."

Zechs merely grinned and reached a hand to Trowa's face.

"Zechs don't-" Quatre said in a panicked tone but stopped when he realized Trowa wasn't in any danger. He watched as Zechs pulled his hand away with Trowa's cigarette between his fingers. He placed the half smoked cylinder between his lips and inhaled. He approached Trowa slowly and leaned toward him. Trowa didn't move a muscle as Zechs remove the cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke directly into his face.

Something suddenly snapped in the back of Quatre's mind. He gritted his teeth and glared at the taller blonde.

"You son of a bitch! How dare you treat him with such disrespect!" Quatre growled.

Trowa's attention faltered. Did Quatre just say "You son of a bitch?"

"Hmph! Standing up for your master; you know, I never would have done that for you. You're such a good little slave Quatre."

Quatre continued to glare daggers at the other blonde. He only stopped when he felt Trowa's hand on his shoulder.

"Quatre stands up for me because he knows I would do the same for him."

"Awe… The two of you are looking out for one another. How sweet," mocked Zechs, as he took one last drag off the cigarette before flicking it over his shoulder. "Just remember this; Quatre was the cause of the pain and misery in an entire kingdom for several months. That may not sound like much but the economic status of the kingdom plummeted and the rate of poverty skyrocketed to an all time high. The city never recovered even after his mysterious 'disappearance'. Eventually, the whole civilization was abandoned. It collapsed into ruin and was swallowed up by the desert. It just vanished without a trace." He walked past them and opened to door to the night club but before entering he turned to Trowa and asked, "Have you ever heard of Balishalhim?"

Trowa didn't answer him.

"Of course you haven't. The name has no significance these days. You can't even find it in the history books. Me and Quatre are the only two people alive today who have ever heard that name." With that Zechs disappeared into the club.

Quatre's head dropped and he closed his eyes tight to hold back his tears. He turned toward Trowa but couldn't look at him. His lips were clamped together but trembling and his cheeks were tinted red with humiliation and shame. Trowa looked down at him sympathetically. It must be hard to live with something like that.

"I hate myself," Quatre whimpered still trying not to shed tears.

Trowa did the only thing he could think of, he wrapped his arms around Quatre and held him close. Finally Quatre couldn't dam up his pain any longer. He buried his face in Trowa's shoulder and cried his eyes out.

"I'm so stupid, I can't do anything right," he sobbed, "I just wish I could die!"

"Don't talk like that," Trowa scolded softly. He placed a hand on the back of Quatre's head, stroking his hair soothingly.

"I'm sorry Trowa."

"Let's go back inside."

"But _he's_ in there."

"Just ignore him. We're here to have fun. I won't let him ruin that. C'mon you can have another Mimosa."

"…I want some Vodka," Quatre said in a trembling voice.

Trowa looked surprised. First he was cursing and now he wanted to drink hard liquor. He was acting strangely.

Trowa shrugged. "Go for it."

Back at the bar Trowa waved the bartender over.

"Another Dos Eques for me and Vodka for him."

The bartender eyed Quatre questioningly but received no answer, only a look of question in return; except his question was more like, "Is that a problem?" The bartender got the hint and stopped his mental interrogation. Not much talking occurred after getting their drinks. Trowa took long swigs of his beer as Quatre took large gulps off his Vodka. Trowa watched the blonde grimace as he swallowed the burning liquid. Trowa smiled. He was adorable, even now, getting wasted from drinking alcohol. Of course Trowa wasn't exactly sober himself. Impaired judgment would surly be his undoing. Duo's words were swarming his hazy mind

_/"You're so protective of him."_

"_Why did you defend him so adamantly earlier when all I did was compliment him?"_

"_You were jealous weren't you?"/_

He sure hit the nail on the head. But why? Why had he acted so protectively toward Quatre? Trowa stole another glance at the blonde. He watched his soft lips kiss the rim of his glass as he took another sip of Vodka. Green eyes traveled down a smooth jaw line and followed a thin neck to an exposed shoulder. Such pale, unblemished skin. Beautiful. He was beautiful.

Without knowing it Trowa had reached out to touch that beautiful shoulder, lightly caressing with just his finger tips. Quatre suddenly stopped drinking.

"Trowa? Is something wrong?"

Trowa slowly withdrew. "…No. I'm sorry, I must be a little tipsy."

Quatre continued to stare at him. Then he smiled.

"It's okay Trowa. I think I am too," Quatre chuckled.

Trowa smiled back before taking another gulp of beer. "Let's finish our drinks then go and join Heero and Duo on the dance floor," he suggested.

Quatre nodded in agreement.

A few minutes later they entered the dance room and looked around at the masses of people gathered in the center of the room. It was difficult to pin point the two other males in this knot of glistening, hormone driven bodies. Freak dancers as far as the eye could see. Trowa took Quatre's arm and lead him into to the crowd. "Do you see them!" he shouted over the blaring music.

"No!" Quatre shouted back.

Suddenly Quarter felt a hand grasp his other arm. Before he could react, he was jerked out of Trowa's grasp and pulled into the crowd. Trowa turned just in time to see him disappear into the mass of rapidly shifting forms.

"Quatre!"

Immediately Quatre was faced with a pair of amethyst eyes and a cheeky grin. Quatre sighed in relief. "Jesus Duo. You shouldn't just grab people like that," Quatre scolded.

"Sorry, it was the only way to get you two apart. It's like you guys are attached at the hip," Duo purred and draped his arms over Quatre's shoulders.

"Why do you keep trying to separate me and Trowa?" Quatre asked with a slight blush.

"Why do _you_ want to be near him all the time?" Duo asked as he leaned in and rested his forehead against Quatre's.

"Don't change the subject. I want to know why you keep pulling me away from him. You already have a boyfriend."

Duo laughed. "My dear, I'm not flirting with you, I'm just trying to understand you."

"A normal person would just ask questions."

"I've never been normal," Duo grinned. "C'mon. Take the stick out of your ass 'n dance with me!"

Meanwhile, Trowa continued to search frantically for the abducted blonde. "Quatre!" he hollered again.

"Lost him eh?" said a voice.

Trowa turned around to see Heero standing with his arms crossed over his chest. "Calm down. I bet he's with Duo."

"Why do you think that?" inquired Trowa.

"Because he suddenly ran off while I was looking in the other direction. He probably snatched him away while _you_ were looking in the other direction."

"You say that like it happens all the time."

"You have no idea," Heero sighed as he shook his head slowly.

"Well, in any case, we'd better find them."

"Yeah I hear ya."

The two of them began to search the crowd of people, unaware that the blonde and the cheeky brunette were actually rather close by.

"So what is it you're trying to understand then?" asked Quatre while moving ever so slightly to the beat of the music.

Duo stood behind Quatre now, his hands placed on the blonde's hips. "Like I said, you guys are nearly inseparable. I just wanna know, is there something goin on between the two of you? Perhaps a little lusty romance?" Duo said with a wide and mischievous grin while pressing himself more against the blonde's backside.

"N-no! We already told you, we're not lovers, we're just roommates!" Quatre said as he blushed furiously but didn't move away.

Duo narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips almost in frustration. "Still won't admit to it eh? Come on. You can't fool me. I know love when I see it."

"But Trowa's not like that."

"Ah… So Trowa doesn't swing that way. But what about you?" Duo said knowingly as he slipped his fingers just beneath the rim of Quatre's pants.

Quatre flinched when Duo's fingers brushed his sensitive skin. What should he say in response to something like that? Anything he said at this point would probably sound awkward. Then he would blush more. But Duo was relentless. He wouldn't stop until he knew the truth. Quatre opted to keep his mouth shut, after all, it was none of Duo's business.

Duo chuckled and leaned closer to whisper in Quatre's ear. "You don't have to say it; I can already see that you want him."

Quatre jerked away. "Shut up! You don't even know me! You don't know anything about me! How could you possibly know how I feel! I don't have to tell you anything!"

Duo gave him a look of surprise. He seemed so modest and reserved; what happened?

"Now if you'll excuse me," Quatre said as he turned to leave the scene. He stopped abruptly for a moment when he heard Duo say, "You might not admit to it, but neither do you deny it."

Quatre turned and looked at Duo once more. He looked shocked. Duo only grinned at him and began to walk away.

"Quatre! There you are!" Trowa shouted as he made his way through the crowd of dancers.

Quatre turned and felt relieved when he saw Trowa coming toward him.

"I was worried, what happened?"

Quatre sighed. "Duo pulled me away to have a chat. That's all."

"Where is he now?" Heero asked as he approached the two other males.

"I don't know. He wandered off just a second ago."

"Christ!" Heero groaned as he made his way back into the crowd to look for him.

Trowa took hold of Quatre's shoulders and forced him to look at him face to face.

"Is that really what happened? Are you sure it was Duo? You can be honest with me."

"Don't worry. It was just Duo, I promise."

Trowa sighed in relief and dropped his head. "I'm sorry, I just got a little freaked out. I thought someone had snatched you up and taken you into one of the back rooms."

Quatre blushed at the thought. "I'm sorry to worry you."

Trowa was quiet for a moment then he smiled. He held out his hand to Quatre. "Wanna dance?"

Quatre returned the smile and took hold of Trowa's hand. The two of them approached and were swallowed up by the pulsating crowd of dancers. Pretty much everyone was close, bumping and pressing against one another. Trowa held Quatre's waist with one hand and Quatre placed his hand on Trowa's shoulder. Both were self conscious at first, wondering if anyone noticed that they were both men, but a few minutes later and they realized that the other dancers were too wrapped up in their own partners to pay any attention.

They both began to move to the music. A strange tune pulsed from the large dance room speakers. A fast, loud beat, then words that didn't make any sense. They began to move to the beat; swaying and rocking.

"I've never heard this song before," Trowa said suddenly.

"Nor I," Quatre replied.

"I don't understand the words at all."

"It's Japanese," Quatre informed.

"…That explains a lot."

"It's still strange. The lyrics, they're bizarre. He's singing about 'The Venus' seducing him on a bed of dirty sheets… Now he's talking about playing above the moon, yearning for the sun… Stabbing a knife into his heart and crying out in ecstasy."

"Nuh-uh!" Trowa said with disbelief.

"Ask Heero if you don't believe me."

"How did you know Heero was Japanese?"

"He called Duo Baka when were all sitting at the bar together. In English, Baka is like idiot or stupid."

"How do you know Japanese?"

"I have to be able to understand and communicate with my master no matter what language he or she speaks. I spoke Spanish to your uncle."

"…You're amazing."

Quatre blushed and looked away. "Yeah right," he giggled modestly.

They danced on as the song picked up even more.

♪ DIE GAME-die game… DIE GAME-die game… DIE GAME ♪

"What's DIE GAME?"

"DIE GAME... DIE GAME is just DIE GAME. It was probably meant to be more like DEADLY GAME but some things just get lost in translation."

"Well, like you said; bizarre song."

They continued to dance and Trowa's hand seemed to be lower on Quatre's waist now then when they started. Perhaps it was all the movement that had shifted it out of its original position. Quatre pretended not to notice, afraid Trowa would let go otherwise. After all Quatre didn't mind. He rather enjoyed the contact. It was comforting. He moved closer to Trowa, almost unconsciously. Trowa swallowed hard, realizing what they were doing. They were only moving to the beat of the music but he couldn't deny that their close proximity and hands on approach didn't suggest that they were "just roommates" or even just friends. It just wasn't practical; guys just don't dance with their male friends like this.

For a moment Trowa considered letting go of Quatre. Almost immediately he thought better of it. After all, Quatre might take offence to that and become upset. The blonde seemed fine with their situation, actually, he seemed to be enjoying himself. But was it really enjoyment or was Quatre simply being compliant with Trowa? Only one way to find out.

"…Quatre?"

"Mm…?"

"Are you okay with this?"

"With what?"

"Well, I mean, I just want you to tell me if you're uncomfortable dancing like this."

Quatre looked around at the masses of sweaty, freak dancing silhouettes surrounding them. He then looked back at Trowa. "I see nothing wrong with the way we're dancing."

"No, well… What I mean is if you want me to back off, you can tell me. I won't be upset."

Suddenly Quatre realized what Trowa was trying to say and he smiled. "Don't worry so much. I don't want you to back off. I'm finally having fun."

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

"I have to be truthful with you," Quatre said as he continued to smile.

Trowa looked blankly at Quatre but then smiled softly back. The blonde male leaned forward setting his forehead on Trowa's shoulder. Trowa wrapped his arms around him as they continued to sway to the beat of the dance room music.

A few feet away Heero and Duo were also dancing. Duo leaned in to kiss Heero's lips softly.

"Sorry I didn't really mean to abandon you. I just saw Quatre and well I had to know. I'm nosey like that."

"Just don't do it again. I know you want to find out about them but your approach is too forward. At this rate you'll just end up making them uncomfortable and they'll never open up at all."

Duo groaned. "Why does it take so long for things to unfurl?"

"Not everyone is as quick to warm up as you are."

Duo looked over his shoulder at the other dancing pair. "They look pretty warm to me,"

"They like one another, that much is evident. They're just unsure of the other's feelings. Trowa doesn't suspect that Quatre likes him and Quatre doesn't know that Trowa likes him. Don't worry though; naiveté only lasts a short while. Eventually, one's true feelings become undeniable."

"Ah…" Duo replied with comprehension.

Heero smiled. It was almost as though he could see the cogs cranking and turning inside Duo's one-track mind. He put his lips to Duo's neck tenderly. Duo closed his eyes and moaned softly. Heero nibbled gently at the spot between Duo's neck and shoulders.

"Heero, is that how it was for you?"

Heero lifted his head slowly and gazed at the ceiling. "Hm…" He mumbled as if he actually had the think about it. "To be honest, I still don't know what I'm doing with you."

Duo glared and slammed his foot down on top of Heero's.

"H-hey. Just kidding."

"You're not allowed to make jokes. You're way too stern."

"Touchy tonight, aren't we?"

"Don't fuck with me."

"Aw… No sex tonight? Don't you think that's a li'l hash?" Heero purred as he pulled Duo closer.

"I-no. C'mon, I didn't, honestly. Rrrr… You know what I mean!"

Heero chuckled at Duo's stuttering. "Oh that's right, I remember now." Heero pressed his lips to those of the flustered male. "It's because you look so cute when you fly off the handle."

Duo smirked but glared at Heero at the same time. They shared several more playful kisses, both giggling with amusement.

The four males danced through several more songs, downed about at least a half a dozen more drinks each, and very soon three of them were slurring words and beginning to stagger. Trowa did an outstanding job of hiding his drunkenness, despite having three Dos Eques and four shots of Brandy. They laughed, danced, and drank for hours but finally, at one o'clock, Heero decide it was time to get going.


	17. So Confused

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: R

Chapter Seventeen

So Confused

It was nearly two in the morning when the four males arrived back at Trowa's house. Once again, Duo weaseled his way into the back seat with Quatre, forcing Trowa to sit in the front seat with Heero. Trowa could only glare at the road as he listened to the two of them giggling in the back seat. He sat, glared, and pondered all possible ways of getting revenge on that braided flirt. As it turned out, Trowa was even more jealous when he was drunk.

"Me 'n Heero, we saw you guys dancin'." Duo teased as he grinned at Quatre.

"Hehe. Zo? Ever'one was danzin'." Quatre slurred in defense.

"But not like yyou guysh. You'ere all like 'Oh Trowa, Oh Quachwa' makin' googly eyez at eashother. You'ere zo c-cute. Mmmm…" Duo cooed.

Quatre giggled and shoved Duo playfully. "Wha'ever."

Trowa was relieved to finally see the front of his own home once more. He staggered as he stepped out of the passenger seat of the car.

"You okay? Need any help? Heero asked as he stepped out to assist him.

Trowa didn't say anything only swatted the air clumsily as a drunken "No".

Quatre continued to giggle as he fumbled with the car door handle. Trowa braced himself against the side of the car and opened the back door for him. Duo waved from the backseat and smiled goofily at the two. Quatre waved back as Trowa put an arm around the blonde's waist to steady him as they walked toward the house.

Despite feeling dizzy, Trowa managed to smile at Heero and thank him for inviting them along. Heero smiled back. "No prob'. We'll have to do it again sometime."

"Yeah, thad'd be great. See ya later 'kay?"

"Okay, take it easy."

The two of them heard the car drive off as they made their way clumsily up the driveway. Quatre continued to giggle even now. Trowa chuckled in response. Standing on the porch, he kept his grip on Quatre's waist as he fished the key out of his pocket and inserted it into the door lock. Trowa nearly fell over trying to open the front door he was so off balance.

"Careful," Quatre warned halfheartedly.

"'M okay. Don't worry."

Trowa managed to drag himself and the blonde over the threshold and close the door but as he turned around one of his legs hit the backside of Quatre's knee. His knee's reaction was to buckle and Quatre took a clumsy dive dragging Trowa down with him.

"Shit!" Trowa swore as they both tumbled over one another onto the carpeted floor. Both were still for a moment, not really even sure of what happened. Quatre was on his side with one hand braced against the floor and the other clenching a fistful of Trowa's T-shirt. Trowa's arm was still wrapped around the genie's waist, his other reached out to break their fall, and his legs straddled Quatre's hips. As if lost in a drunken stupor, both males stared at one another for what seemed like an eternity. Quatre's cheeks darkened yet again as he gazed into the green eyes of his master. That soft sentimental look on Quatre's face made Trowa melt. He leaned down to place a tender kiss on those soft pink lips, lips which had been taunting him all night long. Quatre trembled slightly but didn't pull away. Trowa drew back slowly after a moment. He looked once more upon Quatre's blushing face then looked away and began to lift himself off the floor. He stayed kneeling for a second still staring in some other direction. Quatre sat up as well and also averted his gaze. The room was silent for a long time, the atmosphere thick and heavy.

"I-I'm sorry," Trowa mumbled, finally breaking the silence. Quatre faced him then. "I'm not sure why I did that. It must have been the alcohol; I'm so smashed."

Quatre looked away once more. "It's okay. We both had too much to drink," he whispered.

Trowa nodded in agreement before standing up. He held his hand out to Quatre, offering to help him get up. Quatre took the offered hand but avoided eye contact. The situation only became more awkward with each passing moment. The two of them stood in the entry way of the house but neither one of them made any attempt to do much of anything.

"Are you mad at me Trowa?"

"…No. I'm just… ashamed I guess."

Quatre lowered his head and frowned. He felt like a flower beginning to wilt. Was Trowa ashamed of himself for kissing another guy, or was he ashamed to have kissed Quatre? It was hard to tell which one hurt more. Quatre felt his eyes tearing up again. He blinked several times to hold them back, at least for the moment.

Trowa didn't have to look at Quatre to see that he was upset. He sighed in defeat; it was obvious that he had screwed up. He wanted to say something but he knew anything he said at this point would probably just exacerbate the situation. Instead of rubbing more salt in the wound he simply apologizes again before heading for the stairs. Quatre waited until he heard the click of Trowa's bedroom door shutting before he finally allowed himself to cry.

Everything had gone so well that night and now, because of a simple kiss, the night was ruined. Quatre plopped himself on the couch, threw his head back against the cushion and let his tears stream down his face. Why did he feel so terrible? Was it because of what Trowa said, or was it perhaps because he too was ashamed? Somehow he felt like he had betrayed Trowa by acting in a way that was unfit for a genie. Apparently, it didn't matter that he'd been a genie for nearly two thousand years; his human instinct to act selfishly always seemed to surface at the worst times. It really didn't matter how hard he tried to suppress his true nature. How could he even think about being with Trowa? He wasn't supposed to feel this way. It was neither humble nor appropriate and Quatre mentally chastised himself for being so bold. Staring up at the ceiling, he wished to God he could just disappear.

Trowa stood in the bathroom shirtless and scowling at his reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror. He felt like smashing it to pieces. Instead he opened it, took out a bottle of Tylenol, and poured a couple into his hand. He took them with a cup of water before shutting the cabinet again and leaving the bathroom. He sat down on his bed and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He pulled them down and kicked them off onto the floor. He didn't feel like putting them in the laundry at the moment; he just wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible. He lied down, wearing only his boxers as usual, pulled the covers over himself and tried to doze off. For the longest time he was unsuccessful. He tossed and turned several times. He buried his face in a pillow, tried laying on his right side, then his left, then his back, then his front. He glanced at his alarm clock; it was almost three. He groaned. There was no way he was getting any sleep at this rate. Frustrated, he got up once again and went back into the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet once again and pulled out a bottle of sleeping pills. He took two and once again tried to sleep.

It took a while for them to kick in of course and he lied awake for several more minutes. He continued to scowl as he stared up at the ceiling. He felt awful. For about twenty minutes all he could think of was how ashamed he was to have done something so reckless. How would he be able to face Quatre from now on? This was so humiliating. In a single instant he had ruined the comfortably friendly relationship they had with one another, and for what? What reason did he have for acting that way? Because he was drunk? Was that the only reason? Did he actually have feelings for another male? Pondering his emotions only made him even more confused. Pretty soon he could no longer understand what he was thinking. It all seemed like a warped bunch of nonsense. As much sense was lacking in his thoughts, he still could not get that kiss out of his mind. All he could think about was that moment, hovering over Quatre's thin body, eyes closed, and the feel of the genie's sweet lips against his own. He smiled, or at least he felt like smiling. Perhaps alcohol had less to do with it than he originally though. Quatre was attractive; there was no doubt. He was also kindhearted and sensitive. Trowa loved that about him but he had never actually considered being in love with him.

His ideas gradually became less like actual thoughts and more like dreams. He could see Quatre; his adorable face, slim figure, and soft golden hair. A smile had slowly appeared on his cherubic face. Trowa sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He looked over at the alarm clock again. It read two thirty. He groaned again. A whole half hour had passed and he still wasn't asleep? He collapsed back onto the sheets, frustrated and annoyed. Who would ever think that kissing a person could keep you awake all night?

"What's the matter Trowa? Can't sleep?" said a voice.

Trowa bolted into a sitting position and looked to see the blonde male sitting at the edge of his bed. He sighed in relief. "Quatre, you scared me. I didn't even see you come in, how long have you been sitting there."

Quatre giggled softly as he leaned toward the other male. "Does it matter?" he cooed. Trowa swallowed hard and scooted back timidly. Quatre was acting strangely; he usually didn't enter Trowa's room without at least knocking first and that conniving look on his face was definitely out of character.

"Quatre, i-is something wrong? I thought you were upset."

"Upset? Au contraire. I am quite delighted actually." He scooted closer and reached out to comb his fingers through Trowa's long bangs. The gesture seemed amorous to say the least.

"Quatre? Are you sure you're alright?"

Quatre giggle once more and pressed his lips firmly to Trowa's. "Never better," He purred before kissing Trowa again.

"Q-Quatre?" Trowa panted.

"Shhh… Now's not the time for inquiries. Just relax and enjoy yourself," Quatre whispered. Placing his hands on either side of Trowa's face, he took advantage of the other male's slightly gaping mouth, meeting it with his own and slipping his tongue inside. Trowa shuddered in surprise but didn't pull away. He moaned feeling Quatre's velvet tongue caressing along the underside of his. When Quatre finally pulled away, Trowa was reluctant to let go. Trowa panted heavily feeling excited and aroused. Grinning, Quatre began to nibble at the base of Trowa's neck eliciting another husky moan. The blonde took hold of his master's quivering, sheet clenching hands placing them upon his own waist. It was obvious what this intimate gesture implied but Trowa felt hesitant.

"Are you really okay with this?" He asked breathily.

"Don't hold back," was the only response he got.

Author's Note: I removed part of this chapter due to graphic adult content. If you want to read this portion of chapter 17, visit my livejournal. Unfortunately I'm not allowed to post the full web address so go to livejournal, do a search for my user name, kittyquat, and look for my September 6th entry. I'm very sorry for this inconvenience.

He finally opened his eyes, there was no sign of Quatre. Not only that, but the night time's darkness seemed to have melted away. His room was now bright with the morning sun. He could even hear the faint sound of birds chirping. He looked at his alarm clock one more time. It read eight twenty. Finally he sat up and looked around his room. Nothing looked unusual; everything was exactly the way he left it the night before, the door was closed, and he was all alone. Lifting the covers he could see that he was still wearing his boxers although they were notably damp and tented at the center now. Trowa blushed and covered up his lower half again. A wet dream? About Quatre? He shivered at the thought. He wasn't disgusted necessarily but it did freak him out.

"Oh… What is wrong with me? I must have been drunker last night than I thought. That's just crazy. Quatre would never seduce me like that." Trowa paused and looked down at the bed sheets which did little to hide his erection. He plopped back on the bed and groaned. "Dammit. Go down already," he growled in frustration.

Downstairs, Quatre stood over the stove with a frying pan set on the burner. A couple of eggs drifted magically out of the fridge, cracked in half and poured themselves into the pan. He turned when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Trowa stopped halfway when he noticed the blonde was looking at him. Quatre hesitated but forced himself to smile at the other male. Trowa looked but couldn't smile back. For almost a minute, the two stared at each other awkwardly. Finally Trowa looked away and continued to walk down the stairs, his hands buried in the pockets of the jeans he put on. If he were alone, he might have worn only his boxers, but given that he was not alone and he had woke that morning with a slight but persistent problem, he figured he'd better cover up a little.

"Did you sleep well?" Quatre asked him. Trowa didn't answer. Quatre's smile faded. "Are you hung over? Do you need an aspirin?"

"I'm fine," Trowa mumbled.

"Oh. Well I'll have your breakfast ready soon."

Trowa stood just outside the kitchen for a moment staring at the blonde. "Quatre?" he asked suddenly.

Quatre looked at him. "Hm?"

"…Did you come in my room last night?"

Quatre looked at him strangely. "No. I can't say I did. Why?"

"Thought I saw someone. I must have been half asleep. Don't worry 'bout it."

Quatre held up a plate as the frying pan poured a couple of sunny-side-up eggs onto it. A glass and carton came fourth and orange juice was poured. Two pieces of toast popped up in the toaster and also drifted over and landed next to the eggs on the plate. Trowa sat down at the table as Quatre set the plate and orange juice down in front of him.

"Thanks," Trowa mumbled.

Quatre smiled and sat down next to his master. Trowa ate silently but felt awkward sitting next to the smiling blonde. Why on Earth wasn't he pissed?

"Quatre," Trowa asked.

"Yes?" Quatre replied.

"…Well I… I just, I don't know. Last night, I wasn't thinking clearly," Trowa began. Quatre stopped smiling. "I know what I did was reckless but I… I don't want it to change anything."

Quatre looked down. "Trowa…" Quatre began to say.

"…What?"

"Were you upset with me after that? You seemed regretful."

"…Well, I was."

Quatre frowned at the table.

Trowa winced realizing how that must have sounded. "Oh jeez, I didn't mean it that way. I regret doing it because I feel like I ruined our friendship. I just don't want you to hate me."

Quatre looked as though he might cry. "Trowa, I could never hate you. Please don't think that this will make me think any less of you."

Trowa lowered his head. "For once I just want you to tell me how you really feel. I don't want you to say kind things just to make me happy. I want you to be honest and tell me exactly what's on your mind."

Quatre paused for a moment while contemplating his next move. Finally he looked at the other male and said. "Everything I tell you is the truth; however, if you want me to be completely honest, all I can do is elaborate. I am not angry, embarrassed, ashamed, or regretful; but I am confused. The honest to God truth is… I'm not really sure how I feel. I'm just confused."

Trowa didn't say anything for a long time and the two of them sat staring at one another at the breakfast table.

"…too," Trowa mumbled.

"What was that?" Quatre asked leaning in to better hear what he was trying to say.

"I said me too," Trowa clarified.

Quatre smiled softly. It made Trowa feel warm inside to look at that smiling face. He blushed slightly and leaned toward the blonde. Was it an attempt at another kiss? Perhaps but neither one of them would ever know because at that very instant, the phone rang, interrupting the moment. Trowa's eyes darted toward the phone then back at Quatre as if he couldn't decide what to do. Finally he got up and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he inquired softly.

Quatre watched over his shoulder with curiosity. For the most part Trowa was silent, except for the occasional "Uh-huh." After a few minutes he heard Trowa's stoic voice saying, "I see. Thank you very much… Bye."

With that, Trowa placed the receiver back on the cradle.

"Who was that?" Quatre asked him.

Trowa was hesitant at first, looking at the floor. Finally he turned to acknowledge the other male. "Someone named Detective Chang." He paused again and Quatre waited patiently for him to continue. Trowa walked toward the stairs saying. "He wants me to come down to the police station."

Quatre suddenly got up from the table to follow after him. "They want, wait, does that mean they…"

Trowa stopped with his hand on the banister. He turned but didn't look at the other male. "He said they found someone who fits the description. He wants me to come to the station to see if I can identify him." He then turned and began to ascend the stairs. About half way up, he stopped and looked back at Quatre once more. "I… I don't know if I can do this alone."

Quatre looked at him sympathetically and nodded. "I'll go with you."


	18. Confronting Fear

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: R

Chapter Eighteen

Confronting Fear

Across town in a small but quaint one story house, two boys slept side by side in sleeping bags on the floor in front of a television set that blinked a cycling DVD menu screen over and over. Andy was first to open his eyes. Sitting up he blinked several times then saw the DVD menu screen. He groaned and looked around on the floor for the remote control to the TV. He pushed the power button and the screen finally went blank. He lay back down and looked over at his friend. Caleb didn't show any signs that he might wake up any time soon.

"Caleb," he whispered softly. He waited and got no response. "Caleb," he whispered again, slightly louder this time.

Caleb groaned and rolled over to face the other direction. Andy sighed in defeat. He closed his eyes again and attempted to go back to sleep. It was too bad his friend was such a heavy sleeper. Not only that but he kicked. Andy must have moved away from him at least six times during the night. Andy moved away and five minutes later there was Caleb with his knee in the small of his back or hip, or his elbow in his ribs. All Andy could do was wake up, shove his friend over and go back to sleep again.

About fifteen minutes later, he woke again and sat up. He saw that Caleb was _still _asleep. He scratched his bleached, blonde head and groaned. He felt hungry and he knew Caleb's mom probably had breakfast waiting but he it would be bad manners for him, the guest, to go eat breakfast without Caleb, the host. He didn't want to wait long though; it was almost ten. He looked at his friend for a second, thinking. He leaned over close to his ear and took a deep breath and shouted, "Wake Up, Retard!"

The other boy jolted in shock and his eyes suddenly popped open. "Eh-ye! What the fuck!"

"Dude c'mon I'm hungry. I need food."

"You jerk. Don't wake me up at the crack of dawn," Caleb groused, before trying to snuggle back into his sleeping bag.

"No dude. Don't go back to sleep. I'm really hungry and I can't go eat breakfast without you."

"We're not Siamese twins; go ahead."

"You dumbass; I'm the guest. I can't just take advantage of the hospitality. Now wake the fuck up."

Caleb groaned. "Alright, alright." He rubbed his eyes and yawned.  
The two boys finally appeared in the kitchen and sat down at the breakfast table. Caleb's mother gave each of them a plate of pancakes as well as Caleb's younger sister Shelly.

"Dork, why'd you sleep so long? Mom wouldn't let me eat until you woke up too."

"Sorry, I forgot the universe revolves around you."

"Both of you knock it off. It's too early in the morning for this."

"She started it," Caleb mumbled.

"Well I'm ending it. Now eat your breakfast," his mother scolded.

The whole time Andy sat and ate. He really wasn't that tuned in to there family squabble nor did he want to be. He liked spending time at his friends' houses but their younger siblings always seemed show off when he was around; especially if they were girls. It somewhat bothered him but he understood that it was just their immature need feel wanted and embarrass their old siblings in front of a friend. He continued to eat while remembering that he had to go home that day. It made him wish that he had come over on Friday so that he would have an extra day to spend with Caleb. Suddenly the telephone rang. Caleb's mother picked up the receiver saying "Hello?" She paused for a moment then Andy heard, "Oh hi Trowa, how are you?"

Andy looked over his shoulder with curiosity upon hearing his cousin's name.

"Oh, I see. Should I… Oh, do you want me to bring him home later then? Oh you will? M-hm, yeah, of course, that's fine. Okay, thanks for letting me know. Okay, bye then." She hung up the phone and turned to the boys at the breakfast table.

"Andy, that was your cousin, he said he'll probably be late picking you up today."

Andy fisted his hand. "Yes!" he said with enthusiasm.

The woman smiled at him but felt like something was wrong as she remember that Trowa sounded almost distressed when he said he had to make a trip downtown to the police station. It was good news for Andy as far as he was concerned because it meant that he would get to spend extra time with his friend. If only he knew the severity of the situation.

Meanwhile, Trowa and Quatre sat in the car at a traffic signal. A deadly silence settled upon them. Trowa stared at the road, almost glaring. Quatre glanced at him every now and then hoping for any improvement in the other male's mood. Not that he blamed him for feeling upset he just hated to see that look on his face. He wanted badly to comfort him but wasn't sure if it was an appropriate time to do so. After another minute or so, he glanced at him again. This time Trowa noticed and looked back and then almost in unison, they turned their gazes back to the road. The light turned green and once again, they began to move. A minute or two later, the blonde heard a soft sound, like a whimper. Once again he looked over at his master. Trowa's face looked somewhat distorted; his chin was tight and his mouth quivered. He blinked rapidly trying hard to hold back tears.

"Trowa?" Quatre asked as he reached over and set a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Will you be okay?"

Trowa's cheeks became hot and flushed as he whimpered again. He looked over at the blonde with uncertainty and fear. Quatre frowned, conveying his understanding of the difficult situation. Trowa looked back at the road, tears now breaking free.

"God, I'm so scared," he sobbed. He felt the hand on his should make a slight massaging movement. Quatre knew there was little chance it would help at all but he had to try. Trowa placed his own hand over Quatre's as a way to let him know he appreciated the comforting gesture. It was all Quatre could offer him. Trowa gave him a sad smile as more tears streamed down his face.

"It's okay to be scared right now. This is difficult." Quatre reassured.

Trowa fought to clear the tears out of his eyes; afraid his blurred vision would cause him to hit the car in front of him. It wasn't easy but he managed to pull himself together enough to make it the rest of the way. They arrived at the front of the police station only moments later. Trowa hesitated for a minute or two inside the parked car. His face was still slightly twisted; the area around his eyes looked puffy and red. The whites of his eyes looked a little pink now. Quatre only looked at him with commiseration.

"I don't think I can do this Quatre," he choked as he attempted keep himself from crying again.

"Why not?" Quatre asked softly.

"I don't think I could stand to face him again. I'm not even sure I'd recognize him. I-I don't wanna do this."

"Trowa look at me," Quatre demanded softly. Trowa did so.

"I know you don't want to face him again, who would? But wouldn't you rather face him now and never have to face him again?"

Trowa stared at the blonde for a long while before tears once again streamed down his flushed, frustrated face. He looked away again, ashamed that he was acting like such a baby. Quatre sighed and reached out to rub Trowa's back, trying to comfort him. "Trowa," he started, "I can't force you to do this, nobody can force you. You'll have to decide how to handle this on your own. It's up to you to make the right decision."

Trowa pressed his shirt sleeves to his eyes trying again to dry them off. "I know. I know what I have to do." Without another word Trowa got unbuckled, opened the door and began to step out. Quatre was a bit stunned by Trowa's immediate action. He was sure it would take more convincing than that. He wasn't complaining though. He soon followed after the taller male, a slight smile on his face. He was relieved that Trowa had decided to do this after all. The two of them entered the lobby of the police station where they had to clear their pockets, walk through a metal detector, and show a security guard their IDs. After that Trowa approached the female officer at the front desk who smiled pleasantly.

"Hello, may I help you?" she asked.

Trowa cleared his throat before speaking. "Um… I got a call from a Detective Chang this morning. He asked me to meet him here at the station."

She nodded and stood up saying, "I'll let him know you're here," before turning and walking through a door that read "Staff Only". Trowa and Quatre stood in front of the desk for a few minutes. Quatre glanced over at his master noticing he still seemed very edgy. The lady returned with that same smile on her face and Trowa had to fight urge to tell her to stop it. He was not in the mood for smiles.

"He'll be right out. Why don't you two have a seat over there while you're waiting," she offered pointing to the rows of chairs at the other end of the lobby. Trowa did so without a word and Quatre thanked her kindly before joining him. The lobby was mostly empty, there were a couple others sitting near them reading magazine to keep themselves occupied. There was a long, uncomfortable silence as they sat next to each other. Quatre tapped his heel almost nervously as he stared up at the ceiling. Trowa looked at the marble tile floor. Luckily, they didn't have to wait long in that uncomfortable silence. It really only seemed long. After about five minute they were greeted by a tall Asian man with slicked back, black hair. It wasn't long, but for a man's hair cut, it wasn't short either. He carried a manila folder under one arm and wore a constant scowl on his face. He seemed to be glaring at the two of them. Trowa glared right back at him; a result of his bitter mood. The man introduced himself as Detective Chang and held out his hand to Trowa.

Trowa shook his hand without looking at him directly. Trowa motioned toward the blonde male. "This is my friend Quatre," he said quietly, "He's here for moral support purposes."

The detective shook hands with Quatre as well, giving him a quick nod and only the slightest hint of a smile. The detective turned slightly. "If you'll follow me down the hall, we can get started," he said signaling for them to follow him. Trowa looked at the floor as he started to follow the other man, Quatre remaining close by.

They followed the detective down a hallway and into a small room with a wooden table. It was probably primarily an interrogation room. Trowa and Quatre sat at one end and the detective sat at the other. Detective Chang sighed slapping the folder down on the table.

"Doctor Flinn," he stated flatly. "Why don't you tell me about him."

Trowa took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. Finally he cleared his throat before starting. "I uh… Well…" Trowa stuttered.

"Would it be easier if I just asked you some questions about him?" asked the detective.

Trowa just nodded his response. He really didn't know where to start when it came to this particular subject.

"First of all," Detective Chang started as he pulled a slip of paper out of the folder, "I need you to tell me what happened."

Quatre kept a peripheral view on Trowa while he answered the other man's questions. There really wasn't anything new bout his story. He told Detective Chang what happened, how it happened, when it happened, how it made him feel, etcetera. The only part that was different about his confession now was that he was required to explain in excruciating detail the events that took place that day. He was trying to stifle his tears before long. Quatre looked at Trowa about to cry himself for having heard every word. It was far worse than he ever could have imagined. It took nearly an hour for Detective Chang to finish filling out the report, the whole time he had remained silent except when asking questions. Finally he cleared his throat and stood up. Trowa was still wiping his eyes and sniffling, trying to pull himself together.

"Are you okay?" he whispered to him.

Trowa nodded quickly with his eyes squinted shut and stood up from his chair. Quatre stood as well.

"Now we can move on with the initial identification process. I'm going to take you to where we do our line-ups but before we go I want to go over a few things. First of all, I know this is difficult for you so I want you to know that everything that happens here stays here. Nobody's gonna say anything without your consent, second, there's no need to feel intimidated of afraid of the suspects, you will be standing behind a one-way mirror so they won't be able to see you, and last, if you can't positively identify any of them, don't settle because it is possible that none of them are guilt."

"But you captured a Doctor Flinn," Trowa said with mild confusion as to how none of them could have been the right suspect.

Detective Chang shook his head. "We found records of a Doctor Flinn but they only follow his activities up to 1995. After that, he just disappears into thin air which usually means that he changed his name after that. So unfortunately, we did not find anyone with the last name of Flinn, we only found several suspects that matched your description so it is possible that none of them are guilty at all. What I'm saying is, we don't want to send an innocent man to prison so before you pick out a suspect, make sure you're positive that he's the one. If none of them look familiar, it's alright. We'll continue searching until we have him. Understand?"

Trowa nodded feeling somewhat disappointed. He and Quatre followed him back down the hallway to another small room. Before they could go inside the door opened and three others walked out. One was another detective it seemed. The other two appeared to be a mother and her teenaged son. The boy, Trowa noted, looked as though he had been crying as well.

"Oh pardon us," said the female detective.

Detective Chang smiled slightly at her, which seemed odd due to the man's less than amiable demeanor. "It's quite alright Sally."

Trowa's gaze was fixed on the boy and for a moment the two seemed to be alone in that hallway. The teen stared back for a moment before approaching him.

"What's your name?" he asked suddenly.

"Jess," his mother snapped, she sounded almost embarrassed over her son's forwardness.

Trowa on the other hand was not taken aback at all. He knew exactly why the boy asked that question; the two of them were in the same boat and both were aware of that.

"Trowa Barton," he replied without hesitation.

The boy came even closer and said quietly "Soon he'll know what it's like." After that he backed away and left with the detective and his mother. Trowa looked after the retreating figures for a moment then back at Detective Chang. He nodded at the other man before advancing toward the open door. The three of them walked in and stood in front of a large tinted window. Quatre kept he gaze aimed at Trowa as he moved forward toward the glass. He stared intensely at the seven men lined up against the wall on the other side. He scanned over each one of them slowly and suddenly stopped, his view falling on a man close to the middle of the group. He glared daggers at him even though the man could not see him. He felt like someone had stabbed a knife into his chest as the shock of looking at his assailant struck him hard. He felt his jaw quiver and his eyes begin to well up again but not for the despair he felt earlier. Instead he felt an overwhelming sense of hatred for the man. He felt like beating him to death for what he did and probably would have attempted it if not for the glass barrier between them.

Quatre moved beside him nervously. Trowa looked at him suddenly, shocked as though he had forgotten he was there. Quatre flinch slightly at Trowa's abruptness. Immediately Trowa's expression softened as he looked at the smaller male. Quatre looked at him sympathetically before also looking at the men in the other room. Trowa suddenly pointed to the man holding the #5 sign and Quatre followed with his eyes to see a tall man in his fifties with salt and pepper hair and a thick mustache. His head was lowered slightly and his glasses had begun to slide down his nose. Though he must have known why he was standing there, he didn't show any signs that he felt guilty for his crimes.

"Which one are you pointing to?" asked the detective.

"Number 5."

"You're sure that's him?"

"…Yes, I'm sure," he said simply before turning to leave the room. Quatre watched as Trowa walked away. He could feel the other's pain setting upon him and he looked at the man in the orange jumpsuit one last time. It felt eerie to finally see the man behind all Trowa's misery and pain. Probably because it gave weight to Trowa's ordeal; made it substantial. Finally he wrenched his eyes away and joined the other two males as they exited the room.

Moments later, they were back in the lobby. The detective turned to Trowa and shook his hand once again. "Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Barton. We'll make sure this guy goes away for a long time. I'll keep in touch with you and give you the trial dates as soon as their set."

Trowa flinched slightly; he had forgotten about the trial. He would once again have to confront the man who molested him. But at least he no longer had to worry about that today. He had been brave and thanks to him and that boy, the doctor was going to prison. That knowledge certainly didn't make everything alright but it mad him feel slightly better. It made him feel slightly safer. Seeing that boy, however, had reawakened his feelings of guilt and self-loathing. Just knowing that another was subjected to something like that because he kept his mouth shut made his stomach queasy. He remembered the look on the teenager's face, his red puffy eyes, the tears he had tried to conceal, the sorrow and hatred he saw in his expression. Trowa lost himself in his thoughts and the next thing he remembered was being back in the car. He turned to see the blonde genie sitting next to him. Quatre looked back with a soft smile.

"You did the right thing," he said simply.

Trowa nodded before starting the car and pulling out of the parking spot. There was another long silence then suddenly Trowa spoke. "Let's go to a Starbucks."

Quatre looked at him strangely for a moment. He hadn't expected him to say something like that. But as he thought about it, it really wasn't that strange and he smiled brightly. "That sounds good," he replied.

Another silence, this time neither of them spoke a word until they were parked outside the Starbucks. They walked inside together and approached the counter.

"What can I get for you two?" asked the lady behind the counter.

"Um… Just a plain, black coffee."

"What size?"

"Um… the smallest. Quatre, what do you want?"

"Oh nothing, thank you."

"Okay, just a small black coffee then."

The lady filled a small paper cup with plain coffee. Trowa paid her and went to sit down with Quatre by the window.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?"

"Trowa… I don't need to eat or drink."

"Oh right, I forgot," he said before sipping his coffee.

Quatre hesitated for a moment drawing an imaginary circle on the top of the table. "Um, Trowa?"

Trowa looked up. "Hm?"

"Um, I was wondering what that boy said to you in the hall today."

Trowa paused for a moment before answering, "He said… He said 'Soon he'll know what it's like'."

"What does that mean?" Quatre asked naïvely.

"Um… How do I say this without sounding crude? When people, especially men, are sent to jail for a sex crime like rape… they are likely to get raped by the other inmates. sometimes, the prison guards will even whore them out to other prisoners for money. More than likely, that doctor will be in the same situation very soon. That's what he meant."

Quatre looked slightly shocked. He hadn't known and yet felt like he probably should have. Trowa looked down. Quatre kept his gaze at the table, slightly embarrassed now but of course, he asked the question. "Oh…" was his only response.

Trowa reached out slowly and place his hand on top of Quatre's. The blonde looked up at him with an inquisitive look on his face

"I uh. I just wanted to say thanks for coming with me today. It means a lot to me."

Quatre smiled, blushing slightly. "Any time."


	19. Bad Luck Shoulder

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: HellQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4 eventually

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Chapter Nineteen

Bad Luck Shoulder

Trowa's bedroom was quiet and only dimly lit with the morning sun barely peeking over the horizon. Trowa lay sprawled out on his bed covered by the sheets except for one arm raised above his head and a leg that dangled off the edge of the mattress. He was snoring lightly through a gaping, slightly drooling mouth.

The peace was finally disturbed by a loud, repetitive beeping noise. His eyes flew open and he jerked slightly in shock. He looked over at the accursed alarm clock on his night stand. He blinked at it lethargically. It read seven o'clock. Trowa groaned as he sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. He pushed the off button on the alarm clock, halting the maddening sound. He blinked several times before lifting himself off the bed.

He stretched but cringed at a dull ache in his shoulder. He rotated his arm which only made him cringe more. "God man, what did I do?" he hissed. He looked back at his bed and saw a paperback book half covered by the sheets. He rolled his eyes finally realizing what happened; he had fallen asleep reading it the night before and he must have accidentally rolled over on top of it while he slept. "God damn," he half laughed, half whined. He picked up the book and set in on the nightstand then went into the bathroom.

In the next room Andy slept curled up in the corner of his bed facing the wall. He snored soundly with his mouth wide open and drooling slightly. A stream of light appeared on his face and grew wider as it poured in from his open bedroom door. Quatre peeked inside at the sleeping boy before approaching the bed. He smiled at Andy and set a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Andy? Aaandy?" Quatre whispered.

The boy groaned softly as he tensed and stretched on the mattress.

"Andy, It's time to wake up."

"Mmmm Nooo…" He whined.

"Mmmm Yeees…" Quatre replied imitating the boy's tone.

"Five more minutes?" Andy begged.

"You won't be any more awake five minutes from now."

Andy groaned again but sat up and rubbed his eyes. "M-okay, I'm up."

Quatre smiled and stood up. "Good, now why don't you come downstairs? I have breakfast ready."

Quatre started to walk away when he heard a yawn and a plop. He looked back to see the boy had collapsed back onto the sheets and fell asleep again. Quatre sighed and returned to the bedside and began to shake him again. "Andy, please wake up."

Meanwhile Trowa was getting ready to take a shower. He removed his boxers and tossed them in the dirty clothes basket in the corner, then stepped into the bath tub. His eyes were still droopy as he turned on the cold water then the hot. When he found the right temperature he lifted the valve on the faucet to start the shower water. He sighed as hot water rained down over his shoulders and chest. He leaned his he back feeling in against his neck. He turned to let the spray hit his back. He wetted his hair and squeezed some shampoo into his hand. He smiled as he worked the fragrant suds through his hair. It felt nice and refreshing.

Andy was curled up again, his hands clenching a pillow over his ear. Quatre frowned. He had long since given up on shaking him. "Pleeeease," he begged the boy.

"Uh-uh," Andy said firmly in a bratty tone.

Quatre plopped his head and arms down on the bed as a sign that he had given up. "Oh, why must you be so difficult?" he mumbled. A moment later he tensed. There was a slight jumping motion in the floor and it drew his attention. He lifted his head from the bed and looked down and waited. After a couple of seconds the motion returned and it wasn't one little jump but rather several moderate ones. The floor suddenly felt like it was rolling and Quatre felt himself sway.

In the blink of an eye, Andy was sitting up, wide awake. "Crap! An Earthquake!" he shouted as he sprang from the bed and ran to the doorway. The motion continued and got stronger with each rolling wave. "Quatre, Hurry stand in the doorway!

Trowa nearly lost his balance as the first wave fit. His eyes darted around rapidly as he tried to comprehend the situation. "Shit!" he hissed as he realized what was happening. Before he could react the next wave hit and the only thing he could do was grab a hold of the handle of the shower door. Thinking quickly he backed into the corner of the shower with his arms braced against the tile walls. The tremors became more violent and despite his best efforts, the floor was just too slippery. He couldn't keep himself up. He slipped and tumbled to the floor of the bathtub with a loud smack. Quite to his dismay, he fell right on his aching shoulder. "Oh Fuck'n a, why?!" he growled angrily. He tried to pull himself up again but he couldn't manage to hold onto anything. He looked up at the stream of water; it was swaying along with the motion of the ground. It wasn't the only thing moving though. The metal toiletry rack that sat in the window sill was rattling as it moved ever closer to the edge, threatening to fall. Trowa's eyes widened as he watched it move toward the edge. This was not going to feel good, he thought as he covered his head with his arms.

Slowly the tremors died down though. In the doorway Andy waited until they went away completely before he let go of the door frame. Quatre never got up to join him in the doorway, too bewildered to move. Cautiously Andy stepped away from the doorway. "W-whoa!" he exclaimed as he began to stagger toward the blonde on the floor.

"Quatre, whoa! A-are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I think so. How often does that usually happen?" he replied as he tried to stand up.

"It depends but they happen a lot here 'cause were close to the San Andreas Fault," Andy explained.

"Oh," Quatre nodded.

In the other room Trowa was still huddled on the floor of the bathtub. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked up at the toiletry rack. Thankfully it hadn't fallen. He breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed for a second, the water still pouring down on him. He felt himself chuckle a little. Then there was another strong jerk of the ground. It caught him totally off guard as the tub slid slightly beneath him. He looked up fearfully at the toiletry rack that was suddenly teetering on the edge of the window sill.

"Oh no," he squeaked. Then it finally happened; it fell and landed square on the back of his now bruised shoulder.

"What was that?" Quatre asked.

"Just a little aftershock," replied Andy.

They both perked when they heard a loud, "Ah…! Son of a bitch!"

Quatre gasped and went pale. "Trowa!" Quickly he hurried down the hall not even bothering with the door to Trowa's bedroom. Instead he drifted through the wall.

"Trowa!" he shouted as his eyes darted around the room. "Trowa! Are you hurt?!"

There was no answer for a long while then he heard a low groan coming from the bathroom. Acting on impulse and concern for his master's wellbeing, he dashed over to the bathroom and opened the door. "Tro-wa…"

For a long moment, all he could do was stand and stare wide eyed at the awkward sight before him. He blushed a deep red and remained frozen in place. Trowa was leaning with his forehead pressed against the wall holding his sore shoulder while he grimaced, cursing slightly. He suddenly froze as well when he noticed he wasn't alone. His eyes latched onto the smaller male staring and blushing at him from the doorway. He gasped as he realized he was still nude. He quickly reached for a towel to cover himself. At the same time the blonde covered his eyes and turned to leave the doorway. He stood outside the bathroom still blushing and holding a fistful of his shirt in one hand. "Oh God," he whispered still in shock. He had seen. He had seen everything. He suddenly felt immeasurable shame settle upon him and he began to tremble ever so slightly.

Trowa emerged cautiously and looked at the slender male uncertain of what he should do or say. "U-um…"

"I'm sorry," Quatre apologized quickly before Trowa could continue. "I was just so worried that you were hurt in the earthquake. I wasn't thinking; I should have knocked. I'm sorry." He made the whole comment without even looking at the taller male. He remained with his back to Trowa hoping to hide his humiliation from his master.

Trowa understood. Quatre had a hard time even looking at him in his boxers let alone completely naked. Needless to say he was slightly embarrassed as well but he forced himself to smile at the genie. "It's okay," he replied with a chuckle. "Actually, I slipped and fell in the shower when the earthquake hit and then the toiletry rake fell on me so I appreciate your concern."

Quatre looked back cautiously. He could see that Trowa was still blushing a little as well. He giggled at the rare sight but then gathered himself. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it hurt like a bitch though," he said showing Quatre his shoulder. It was scraped up and pink from being agitated all morning.

Quatre grimaced and hissed as he looked at the tormented shoulder. "Does it hurt bad?"

"I'll live," Trowa replied.

"Well at least let me clean it up for you," Trowa insisted

"It's just a scratch, besides, I just got out of the shower; it's clean enough."

"How about a Band-Aid?"

"Okay," Trowa agreed and followed him back into the bathroom. He leaned against the counter and waited while Quatre retrieved a Band-Aid from under the sink. Quatre stood up and approached Trowa as he undid the packaging of a big butterfly Band-Aid and carefully stretched it over the scrape on Trowa's shoulder. Trowa saw a red glow spread across the other's face as he smoothed a hand over it, making sure it was firmly attached. He swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous and not knowing exactly why.

"There. That'll keep it clean at least," Quatre said with a smile. He looked over at the metal rack and bottles of body wash and other bath products that lay scattered over the floor of the tub. He kneeled and began to pick them up. Trowa watched him for a moment. For some reason he couldn't pull his eyes away. There was nothing particularly interesting about the genie's task of reassembling the toiletry rack. Perhaps it was the way he was bent over the side of the tub in a pair of skin tight jeans while reassembling the toiletry rack that caught his eye. Trowa shook his head. There it was again, that strange urge to attack the smaller male and smother him with kisses. What on Earth was wrong with him, he thought.

"There," Quatre sighed as he set the rack back in the window sill. He turned to see Trowa still staring at him. He giggled. "Trowa don't you have to get ready for work?"

Trowa gasped slightly, suddenly realizing he was in a hurry. "Shit! Yer right. What the hell am I doing?" he said as he rushed back into his bedroom to get dressed. Quatre, realizing he had their breakfast waiting, levitated and drifted through the wall and back into the hallway. He passed Andy in the hallway.

"Is Trowa okay?" he asked.

Quatre nodded. "Yes he's fine, he has a scraped on his shoulder but he's fine."

"Oh, good," Andy said with a smile as he headed down the stairs. When he got to the dinning room table Quatre was already waiting for him with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. Moments later Trowa was downstairs as well. Quatre handed him a plate of eggs and bacon as well then began to clean up the cookware. "I hope it isn't too cold." He said to them.

"No, just right," replied Trowa.

Quatre smiled appreciatively while scrubbing the egg off a frying pan. As soon as Andy and Trowa finished there breakfast they prepared to leave. On their way out the door Andy gave Quatre a hug and said goodbye. Trowa simply nodded his head toward the blonde.

"Have a good day you two. See you this afternoon."

Andy waved as he was getting in the car and Quatre waved back. He remained on the porch until they had driven out of view. Suddenly the ground jerked a little. A second aftershock. Quatre held onto the railing that lined the porch to maintain his balance. He looked off in the direction his two masters had driven. "I hope these aftershocks don't cause too much trouble for them," he sighed. After a moment he returned to the house to find something to occupy his attention for the next eight hours. Maybe playing with Alley would help to pass the time.

Trowa pulled his car up to the front of the school moments later. "'Kay be good and pay attention in class. See you when school gets out, have a good day," he told the boy.

"'Kay, you too Cuz. See ya," replied Andy as he got out of the passenger side. He shut the door and ran toward the office building where Caleb was waiting for him. Trowa smiled, watching the two boys greet one another before leaving.

"Hey, did you feel the earthquake this morning?" asked the other boy.

"Yeah I was still in bed," replied Andy. "Trowa was taking a shower when it happened.

"I was just eating breakfast when it hit and my cereal got spilled all over the place including my lap."

Andy giggled. "Man that sucks."

"Dude I know, I had to put on a whole new outfit otherwise I'd smell like sour milk for the rest of the day."

Andy made a face. The thought of smelling of rancid milk could appall anyone. But they had to laugh at the though of having milk spill in one's own lap.

At the retirement home Trowa proceeded through the employee entrance. Today was going to be a very interesting day, especially if the aftershocks continued. The one that occurred while he was driving Andy to school had not been severe, thankfully. As he walked into the kitchen he greeted his coworkers and gave each of them a friendly smile despite the dull pain in his shoulder. He swiped his time card and put on a plastic apron and started on the small pile of soiled dishes. It was about fifteen minutes later when yet another after shock hit. This one was particularly strong.

Trowa held on tight to the sink trying to maintain his balance. It was a difficult task even with the floor mat below him. It was a cheap plastic floor mat with no ridges or gaps. It was simply a flat plastic mat which did a poor job of preventing slippage when wet. Unfortunately, the area around the dishwasher was always wet. Trowa braced himself with the edge of the sink but it was no use, one of his feet slipped and he took another dive, once again injuring his shoulder. It slammed against the edge of the sink on the way down. He snarled in pain and frustration holding his poor shoulder as the ground finally settled down again.

Immediately, Treiz was at his side to ask if he was alright. Trowa nodded still cringing and holding his shoulder.

"Trowa did you hurt your shoulder?"

Trowa chuckled softly. "For the third time today." He said as he rolled up his sleeve to have a look. He pealed back the bandage to see that it had already turned purple and even slightly green in some places. He made a pitiful face and whimpered feeling overcome and frustrated. Why? Why did this keep happening to him? Why that one shoulder over and over?

"I told the administrator these floor mats didn't meet our safety standards." Treiz uttered bitterly. "Are you going to be okay? Do you think you need to go home?"

Trowa shook his head reapplying his bandage and unrolling his sleeve. "It's just a bruise, I'm okay."

They both stood back up. "Sure yer okay?" asked Treiz. Trowa nodded and patted Treiz on the back. "Yeah thanks man." He gave his sore shoulder one more soothing rub before proceeding to wash dishes.

Later at the house, Quatre kept himself busy by mopping the kitchen floor and humming as he smiled. He levitated so that his feet wouldn't dirty his freshly cleaned floor. He was about to finish the last portion when he heard the sound of the pet door open and then slam shut again. He turned to see Alley approaching him. Quatre gasped as his eyes locked onto the shredded remains of a blue jay lodged in the cat's mouth. He silently willed the feline to stay put but unfortunately Alley did not heed the genie's plea. Instead, the cat continued into the kitchen, staining the floor with his filthy paws.

"Gah! No, please, I beg of you. Please take your… catch back outside and play with it there." Quatre pleaded with hands clasped together still hovering above the floor. The cat still did not heed his plea and continued forward then stopped in the center of the kitchen. For a moment Quatre stared eye to eye with the feline. Slowly, Alley lowered his head and began to open his mouth. It seemed to happen in slow motion as Quatre cringed and whimpered watching the bird carcass slide free of the cat's trap-like mouth and fall toward the floor.

"Nooooo!" cried the genie with an outstretched arm; even though he was aware it would do him no good. It was too late. The jay landed on the ground with a slight plop. Quatre fisted his hands and grit his teeth when he saw the sad little bird laying face up on the tile floor with its wings spread and feathers in disarray. He glowered at the pointy-eared hairball who sat proudly before his quarry as though waiting for Quatre's show of appreciation. "You disgusting, vile, creature! Why must you dirty a clean house with your little kills? Why do you bring them to me? I don't want them."

He lifted the poor little bird by its foot and opened the back door to toss it away. He stormed passed the "vile creature" and mopped up the spots soiled by said "vile creature". The front door opened seconds later and Quatre smiled upon seeing his two master home from work and school. Andy smiled back and gave Quatre a hug.

"How was school Andy?"

"Okay. I got an A on my word-cell quiz."

"That's great. I'm happy to hear that." Quatre looked over to see Trowa walking toward the staircase looking rather upset.

"Trowa? Are you okay?" asked the genie.

"His shoulder hurts." Andy explained.

"Still?"

Trowa nodded silently and continued his way to his room.


	20. Don't Hold Back

**Rub Me the Right Way**

Written By: KittyQuat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or any GW characters. I am but a simple GW addict with a passion for writing fictional stories. Please don't sue me. I cannot afford to be broke. Thank you.

Pairing: 3x4, 1x2 (suggested)

Chapter Rating: NC-17

_Special thanks to Grave Turtle for beta reading my story and fixing all my silly mistakes._

Chapter Twenty

Don't Hold Back

Trowa stopped just outside the door to his bedroom and looked back down at Quatre and Andy. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, "Caleb's dad will be here in a while to pick up Andy."

"B-but it's a school night," Quatre reminded.

"No, 'cause it's a teacher collaboration day tomorrow. Usually they only let us get out early but this time they gave us the whole day off," Andy explained.

"Oh, well that's a lucky break isn't it?"

"Yup," Andy nodded.

Quatre looked back up at the top of the stairs but Trowa had already disappeared inside his room. Quatre frowned at the closed door. Trowa must have felt miserable to shut himself in his room like that. The sound of the doorbell ringing pulled Quatre out of his daze. Andy opened the front door to reveal Caleb and his father.

"Hey Andy," Caleb greeted.

"Hey," he replied then turned back to Quatre. "Okay, see you tomorrow."

"Wait Andy, when will you be home?" Quatre asked quickly before the boy could rush off.

"Oh, Trowa said he would pick me up tomorrow at seven," he replied.

"Oh, okay. Have fun then. See you tomorrow."

Soon Andy was gone and the door closed with a slam. Quatre sighed. The two boys were almost inseparable. If Andy ever went to a friend's house, it was Caleb's. If Andy ever invited a friend over, it was Caleb. Not that Caleb was his only friend by any means; Andy had lots of friends but he seemed to favor him when it came to sleepovers and other non-school activities.

Quatre went to the kitchen to fill a Tupperware bowl with warm water. He took a cloth out of a drawer as well then smoothly drifted up the stairs. He knocked gently on Trowa's bedroom door and asked "Trowa? May I please come in?"

There was a short silence then Trowa replied with a miserable, "Yeah."

Quatre stepped inside timidly and looked around for his master. He found him sitting shirtless on the bed pealing the bandage off of his shoulder. Quatre closed the door behind himself and approached Trowa with the bowl and washcloth. "May I?" he asked with a smile.

Trowa nodded silently. Quatre set the bowl down on the night stand and dipped the rag in the warm water. He wrung it out and set it on Trowa's sore shoulder. Trowa flinched. Even Quatre's gentle touch was painful. "I'm sorry," he apologized dabbing the afflicted area gently.

"S'okay," he replied. Despite the pain, the warm water made the injury feel better. He sighed and began to relax as Quatre treated him. Quatre dipped the cloth again, renewing the warmth. He continued dabbing but stopped after a few minutes. Trowa watched as Quatre stood up.

"It's okay," Quatre told him. Quatre took hold of his own hand. With tip of his thumb against his palm, he began to push his thumbnail into the skin. He pressed harder and harder.

"Qu-Quatre! What are you doing?!" Trowa was shocked.

"It's okay. Don't be afraid. Trust me."

Quatre pressed on until finally his nail drew blood.

"Quatre…" Trowa began.

"Shhh… I won't hurt you," Quatre replied before returning to his master's side. He placed his bleeding palm to the man's shoulder and held it there watching Trowa's expression of shock. He decided he owed him an explanation. "It will make it heal faster. I know it may sound strange but the blood of an immortal can heal any wound within minutes."

Trowa didn't respond. He only watched Quatre's bloody hand on his shoulder. He stared, wondering how the genie could intentionally hurt himself and act like it was perfectly normal. "Why?" he asked.

Quatre was silent for a moment then he smiled. "Because, I hate to see you in pain. It's a small sacrifice to on my part." He looked into Trowa's eyes seriously, "I would do anything for you Trowa."

Trowa continued to stare; however, now looking stunned. His heart was pounding in his ears and he could think of nothing other than the situation at hand. He felt his face heat up and he got that naughty urge again. But he did not shake it off this time, he couldn't ignore it, nor did he want to. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Quatre's tentatively. He felt a tingling sensation in the pit of his belly at the small, tender contact. He ended the kiss slowly. Quatre looked almost frozen as he continued to stare into Trowa's dark green eyes. Trowa took hold of Quatre's bloody hand and brought it to his mouth. Quatre watched in amazement as Trowa's tongue pressed against the wound on his palm. A blush spread from ear to ear as he stared at Trowa in confusion. Quatre wasn't completely clueless; he was aware of what these actions implied but felt like he shouldn't assume. After all, any minute now Trowa could snap out of it and apologize again. He hoped that wouldn't happen this time, as he probably couldn't handle being lead on and then rejected a second time. Just remembering that incident made his heart ache and his eyes well up.

Trowa saw the distressed look in his peripheral view and stopped. "Hey… What is it?" he asked with concern.

A tear escaped the genie's eye and he tried to look away.

"Quatre…"

"…Trowa, I don't think this is a good idea," Quatre replied softly. He paused for a moment. "The last time… this happened, you were upset and you said you felt regretful and ashamed. So I don't think we should do this because you would become upset again."

Trowa sighed and smiled slowly at the genie. He gently wiped away his tears. "I told you that wasn't your fault."

"I know, it's just that…" Quatre began softly.

"What?" Trowa encouraged gently.

"Please don't be upset. It's just that when you said that, I felt sad, and I cried. Because…" He swallowed hard trying his best to maintain some composure. "Because I love you, and when you kissed me… I though maybe you felt the same way. You didn't though, you felt ashamed." Quatre sobbed. "It _is_ my fault. It was selfish of me to want that kind of a relationship."

Trowa had dropped his smile. He was amazed by Quatre's confession. He had no idea how deeply that one incident had affected him. He was even more surprised that Quatre admitted to having feelings for him. He grabbed the sobbing genie, wrapping him in a warm embrace. Quatre clung to him desperately, burying his tear soaked face in Trowa's neck. Trowa held him close whispering soothingly into the blonde's ear.

"It's not selfish to love and care for another person." He held him tighter. "I'm so sorry I hurt you."

Quatre looked up at his master, his eyes red from crying. As pitiful as he looked, there something alluring and sweet about his sad expression. Trowa couldn't resist. He kissed Quatre's trembling lips once more. He felt Quatre's fingers tighten and dig into his back. Another kiss, a little deeper this time. Quatre jolted slightly, feeling Trowa's tongue against his lower lip. Quatre's lips parted slightly, timidly, allowing the other male to taste him. Trowa indulged that invitation, sliding his tongue along Quatre's, hot and slick as they teased one another. Trowa soothed his hand over the blonde's flushed cheek and jaw line, silently asking him to open his mouth a little more. Quatre did so and began to return the kiss ardently.

A small moan escaped the blonde. Trowa smiled slightly, his lips still pressed against Quatre's. The little sound made him feel hot. His hand moved from Quatre's cheek to the back of his head, fingers combing through the silky tresses of splendid gold. The two them parted slowly, almost reluctantly. Quatre panted softly and his heart began to race.

"Quatre…" Trowa whispered breathily.

Quatre's hands reached toward the other's face but then stopped and began to withdraw. Trowa grasped his wrists to prevent their retreat. He looked at Trowa, confused. Trowa only smiled in return, closing his eyes, and lifting the other's hands to the sides of his face. Quatre timidly felt Trowa's face. He slowly tried to memorized every single, minute detail. His delicate fingers traced over Trowa's temples and forehead, his lidded eyes, his sharp nose, his slightly parted lips. He pressed a little more firmly at his lips, unable to suppress his desire. Quatre felt the other smile under his touch.

He was breathing erratically, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Suddenly those slender hands began to quiver against Trowa's mouth. Trowa opened his eyes to see Quatre gazing back at him through half lidded, lust filled eyes. His expression was flooded with desires and emotions that Trowa had never seen in him until that very moment. His eyes, which normally seemed so bright and cheerful, now appeared notably darker and almost feral.

"Trowa… he panted.

In the blink of an eye, Trowa was on his back staring up at the ceiling. Suddenly Quatre came into view. He was straddling Trowa's waist staring down at him with those hungry eyes. Trowa froze, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide in shock. How did they get like this? It was apparent that the blond had shoved him down but it happened so fast that he missed it completely.

Quatre's hands came down on Trowa's chest then his lips onto Trowa's lips. A forceful kiss, contradicting the genie's usually, gently nature. Trowa moaned and shifted his weight, rolling over so that the blonde lay beneath him. He ran his hands down Quatre's chest then slipped his fingers beneath his shirt to caress his belly. Quatre's skin tensed beneath his feather light touches. His hands crept upward until he felt two tiny nubs of raised flesh. Quatre inhaled sharply as the other male began to tease and caress them. They hardened almost instantly conveying Quatre's tremendous need.

Trowa tugged at the bottom hem of the blonde's T-shirt beginning to remove it. Quatre helped him by raising his arms above his head so that it slipped off easily. Trowa dropped it on the bed next to them and continued his exploration. He eyed the other's smooth neck with a look of immense hunger. He nudged it tenderly with his nose, taking in the other males scent, becoming intoxicated with it. He licked his skin tentatively, delighting in the sweet taste.

For a moment he considered leaving one or two hickies but thought better of it; the mark would only last mere moment before it began to dissolve away. Even the cut on the palm of his hand was beginning to heal. For that matter, the pain in his own shoulder was also rapidly disappearing.

Quatre mewled as Trowa's lips closed over his throat and sucked gently. He hardly noticed his master's hands at the waistband of his jeans. Seconds later, they were unbuttoned and unzipped. Suddenly Quatre realized what they were doing. His breath quickened. He shivered feeling his pants and underwear slide down his waist. Oh God, this is actually happening, he thought. Trowa trailed kisses down Quatre's chest and stomach. Cool air began to settle on the exposed skin of his hips and thighs. He felt a wave of heat rising in the pit of his belly as he was slowly stripped completely nude.

Trowa set Quatre's pants down on top of his shirt. He regarded the blonde for several moments, taking in his natural beauty and radiance. Every single feature looked so pristine and perfect that Trowa feared that he would damage him if they continued. But he was too obsessed to stop himself at this point.

**Lemon version can be found on my Live Journal; my username is kittyquat**

Afterward, his head spun like a top and his body felt like gelatin as he lay flimsily on top of Quatre. Moving was next to impossible. He could do nothing except breath and listen. He could hear his own labored respiration as well as the genie's. If he was still enough, he could feel Quatre's fatigued heartbeat.

Eventually, he gathered up enough strength to pull his dead weight off the other male. It was all he could handle as he rolled over and collapsed next to him. Lazily, they looked at one another. Both smiled.

"I can't believe we just did that," Trowa panted.

Quatre chuckled slightly. "Me either."

There was a long silence.

"How is your shoulder?"

"Hm? It feels fine now."

"Hm… Good," Quatre murmured. He then did something that shocked both of them; he opened his mouth wide and let out a yawn. "I feel so… sleepy. How is that possible, I haven't needed to sleep in almost two thousand years and yet, I feel very tired right now."

"Are you okay?" Trowa asked with concern.

"Mm… I think you may have temporarily mortalized me."

"H-how's that possible?"

"It must be like when I gave you my blood to heal your shoulder faster. It's probably just a temporary side effect of…" He trailed off as his eyes began to close. "Of…" he tried again.

"Shhh… It's okay I understand what you're trying to say. Just rest, you must be exhausted going without sleep for so long."

Quatre smiled as his eyes slide shut.

"Mmm… I love you…" he cooed before giving in to his body's demand for sleep.

Trowa smiled softly and wrapped an arm around the blond. He kissed Quatre near the top of his head and snuggled close to him. The other male was already in a deep slumber by this time.

"I love you too Quatre. With all my heart."


End file.
